Beware of Potions
by SerenaRiis
Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6th year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for. Slightly AU after GoF, centered mostly on the twins. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Author's Note: This story takes place during the summer before Fred and George's 6****th**** year. **

**Chapter One**

Molly Weasley was fairly happy with how the day had been turning out. The key aspect to note in that sentence though, had been the use of past tense when describing the day. Up until the time just before everyone would sit down for dinner, the house had only experienced its usual amount of noise. The ghoul upstairs, Ron, along with Harry and Hermione who were visiting for the summer, the nonexistent sound of Percy and Ginny reading were all she'd heard so far that day. In fact, there were two people that she had not heard from at all since breakfast, and they were her twin sons. She was a bit worried about what they were doing in their room, but decided to leave well enough alone.

She wasn't the only one who was appreciating the silence that was emanating from Fred and George's room. Percy silently congratulated himself on placing the silencing charm all around their room right after breakfast that morning as he flipped to a new chapter in his book on cauldrons. Unfortunately, the silencing charms didn't stop the slight vibrations coming from the wall separating their room from his. He shook his head as another one rippled through, thinking about what type of ridiculous "product" they were designing.

The product that the twins were creating, or had been at least, was a complex piece of magic. If done correctly, they would have been able to create a drink that was similar to muggle soda (they had spent hours drilling Hermione on the subject) that would put the drinker in a state of extreme happiness and elation for about an hour before the spellwork faded away.

Unfortunately though, the spell would not be able to be performed until they got back to Hogwarts, due to the underage magic restrictions. The twins highly doubted that they would be able to talk Percy, who was the only of-age wizard who wasn't an adult in the house to perform the spell for them. So for right now, all they had to work on was the potion… the extremely complex and somewhat dangerous potion.

They were currently on attempt five of making the potion. The first try had almost been disastrous due to George's accidentally dropping all of the bat wings into the potion at once instead of over the space of ten minutes. The small explosion from that accident had caused several items that were hanging on the walls to fall down. The second and third tries had failed because they were still revising their invented potion recipe. Thankfully, only the third attempt caused a minor explosion. The fourth attempt had nearly burned a hole through the floor which would have seeped downstairs had one of the twins not wandlessly banished the potion.

"What do you think?" George asked, looking through a stack of notes that they had compiled when coming up with the idea during History of Magic at the end of the last school year. "A bit more of the flobberworm?"

Fred nodded while stirring and then said, "Yeah, but not too much – soda's a liquid, not a sludge."

Adding a bit in at a time, the two boys looked in on the potion and then back at the notes. "Maybe some jobberknoll feathers, for the memory?" Fred suggested, and a moment later, three were thrown into the bubbling concoction.

This last attempt was the closest to what they had anticipated though, and both were ready to call it good enough. It didn't help that they had been arguing all morning and all afternoon about what ingredients to add or change in order to make the potion work. Both sat down on opposite beds and examined their work. Due to how the ingredients reacted, there ended up being only enough of the potion for one consumer, and they desperately wanted to know if it worked.

"Did we add some of the lovage leaves?" George asked, knowing that if they hadn't, that it was too late by now to do it.

"Two of them, I think they were the only two we had left," Fred commented. "And we remembered the peppermint?"

"One sprig. I hope Mum doesn't notice it's gone missing."

"Or that Percy doesn't notice that we took his koi scales," Fred added to the list of things they had 'borrowed' in order to make the potion.

"Yep, all ten of them."

Fred paused and asked, "You put all ten in? We only needed one tenth a scale…"

The two shared a dubious look at the potion before George shrugged and said, "Well, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Who knows at this point?" Fred asked wearily. "Should we go ahead and try it?"

"I dunno Fred… the way we figured it… I don't think it'll work if it's not combined with the spell," George replied, sounding just as tired.

"Oh please don't tell me that we wasted the whole day on a potion of which we have no idea of how it works."

"I'm just as curious as you, but still…" George started, looking at the small vial of potion that was leaning against the cauldron stand in the middle of the floor. "Even so, there's only enough for one of us, who'll try it?"

"Ah, there's your curiosity back," Fred jested, smiling. "We could play that game that the muggles do… how did it go? Paper and scissors and rock?"

"Rock, paper, scissors. Dad went on about it for about two hours last week – how on earth I'll ever forget it is beyond me."

"Should have gone to sleep like I did."

"Yeah but mum gave me that tea…" George said, leaning back further. "I could use some now though."

"Alright, let's go then. Winner drinks it?" Fred said, and George nodded. Both held their fists out and on the count of three they revealed what they had.

"Rock."

"Paper."

"Paper wraps rock, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. So I win!" Fred exclaimed, reaching forward to grab the vial of orangish potion. He uncorked it and raised it up, saying "cheers."

George just rolled his eyes as his brother downed the potion in one gulp, though he was actually watching Fred closely. Last year they had tried something like this, and both of them had gotten sick from it. It had taken a lot of effort to refrain from visiting the infirmary, but they had ended up missing a day's worth of classes which they later paid for in detention. After that, they had both taken to studying their potions texts a bit more closely and really looking at possible outcomes of a mixture before trying it.

Fred set the vial down after swallowing the potion and looked at George. For a split second, both of them seemed worried about what would happen, but then Fred shook his head and smiled.

"Well, there's one good thing about it…" Fred said after a moment.

"What's that?" George asked.

"It tastes good. Like cake…" Fred said, looking at the vial.

"Flobberworm tastes like cake? I'll have to remember that. So how do you feel then?"

"No difference. Maybe it just takes a bit? I guess we'll find out though," Fred replied, sitting down on his bed and gathering their notes into a slightly more organized pile, trying to pull out the recipe that they had just used. As George was putting away a few ingredients, Fred tucked the recipe along with a few notes into his Potions textbook.

Both of them paused what they were doing as they heard the distinct voice of their mother calling everyone down for dinner. They smiled and opened the door, careful to hide the contents of their room from Percy, who walked by a moment later, peering in curiously. He was not to be deterred though.

"What have you two been doing all day?" Percy asked, squinting to look at them in an untrusting way.

"Nothing Perfect Percy, nothing at all…" George answered.

"Unless you count doing nothing as being something, then we were doing something," Fred added.

"But that would be the same as doing nothing," George replied.

"True… so honestly Perce, we were doing absolutely nothing."

Percy peered above their shoulders and saw the empty cauldron and said, "You've been brewing potions in there, haven't you!"

"No," the twins said together.

"Mum will find out."

"I'm sure she will," George started.

"Yeah, because you'll tell her."

"You sneaky little – "

"Mum!" Percy shouted.

George and Fred both rolled their eyes and before they knew it, their mother was standing on the stair landing with the three of them.

"What are you three doing? I said that dinner was done… oh Percy, what is it?" She asked, seeing the accusatory look that her third eldest was sending the twins.

"They were brewing potions again," Percy stated, with the air of one who had just caught a few criminals that had great bounties on their heads.

Molly looked into the twin's room and saw the cauldron and exclaimed, "You're not inventing your own potions again, are you!"

Fred and George just looked at each other and then at the floor.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is! You could blow up the entire house!" Their mum shouted at them, with Percy smirking in the background. "And what if those potions were poisonous? You could kill us all!"

Fred and George just looked between each other again and George started to say, "Now mum… do you honestly think we're that – "

"You're not testing these stupid things on yourselves are you?" She asked, glaring at both of them.

Fred grabbed the handle behind him and shut the door to their bedroom before moving to walk downstairs, the others following him. Their mother was still glaring at them.

"Of course we didn't test that one on _both_ of us," Fred said as if it would be ridiculous to think otherwise.

Molly just sighed and said, "Well that's good, because you could honestly hurt yourselves if you did." She glanced over at the packed table that now also housed her husband and sighed. Halfway to the table though, she stopped and stood straight up again.

"Wait a minute… _both of you_? What does _that_ mean?" Molly asked dangerously, pointing a finger at them menacingly.

Fred and George shared a look before George started with the explanation of their decision.

"Well, we only really had enough of the potion for one person…"

"And we didn't want it to go to waste…"

"So we did that thing that Dad showed us all last week…"

"Rock, paper, scissors."

"That's it. Fred won."

"And we decided that the winner would drink the potion."

"So that's what he did." George finished, both of them looking proud of themselves at their reasonable decision-making skills.

Their mum looked like she was about ready to rip her hair out of her head. "And what _exactly_ is this potion supposed to do?"

"Well, we're not really sure…" Fred started. If at all possible, it looked like their mum grew even angrier at Fred's answer. Before she could say a word though, her husband spoke up.

"You boys made a potion, one of you drank it, and you have no idea what it will do?" Arthur asked from across the room. The four younger children snickered at them, sensing the trouble they were in.

"Well… kind of. It's supposed to be combined with a spell, but since we're not allowed, we figured we'd just see what the potion did," George explained.

"And what was it supposed to do?" Their father asked.

"Make the drinker of the potion, after the spell'd been performed on it, extremely happy for a bit, until the potion faded," Fred answered.

George nodded and added to Fred's answer, "We were trying to make it look similar to those muggle fizzy drinks that Hermione told us about, but it was hard to get the right effect and have it look a certain way."

At this, Hermione felt the need to extend her potion-making knowledge to them. "You were trying to make a mood-altering potion and spell? _And_ make it into such a specific consistency?"

"Yes," they both replied.

"You did this with a potion and spell that you two created?"

"Yes."

"And then you only consumed half of the 'finished product' that you were making?"

"Yes."

Hermione just rolled her eyes at them and looked back at the table, shaking her head.

"Oh, what now?" Ron asked, eyeing her exasperated expression.

"Mood-altering potions are some of the hardest potions to _brew_, let alone _invent_. And the fact that you didn't even use all of it means that it's probably very unstable, which could completely change the desired effect of the potion," She shook her head again and, after noticing that only a few members of her impromptu audience understood, looked at the twins. "To put it bluntly, you're both idiots."

"That was a bit harsh," George said, and Fred put his hand over his heart with a hurt expression.

"You don't understand! People have been seriously hurt by experimental potions, and even killed! And neither of you really has a mastery in potions!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked that they would act so flippantly about something that could have killed them if even the slightest mistake was made.

"She does present a valid point," Fred said, giving in at the irate expression on the young witch's face.

George nodded, looking at his twin. "But on the bright side – it seems our attempts were in vain anyways. Nothing's happened to him."

"And you should be very grateful that nothing has happened to him!" Molly shouted at them. "Neither of you seem to grasp what could have happened. He could have drunk something poisonous and died!"

Arthur stood up and came forward to stand next to Molly. "Boys, I want you to go up to your room right now and bring down any and every potion making item that you own," their father ordered them, looking at them with clear disappointment in their decisions.

The twins didn't move for a moment before George asked, "But what about dinner?"

"You two obviously don't care about your health, so I doubt that missing dinner tonight will be much of a loss. Now go before I go up there!" Molly threatened them. The twins could understand their parents' anger enough not to glare at them as they walked back upstairs, which was smart on their behalf.

Molly continued to mutter angrily as she dished up food to everyone about how idiotic the twins' behavior was. Her mutterings only grew louder as Percy began to agree with her and add his own opinions.

Meanwhile, Fred and George were standing in their room and looking at the rather large mess that they had made that day. They hadn't had much to eat for breakfast since they were usually too tired to do much in the morning, and they had spent all day working on that blasted potion, so they hadn't gotten lunch. Both of them were seriously regretting their mum's knowledge about the incident to include the testing of the product.

"Do you want to get ingredients and vials and such into a box, and I'll clean this stuff up?" Fred asked.

George looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Maybe that potion is affecting you. You actually _want_ to clean up this mess?"

"I'd rather it be done before they get done with dinner, that way mum and the rest won't find another reason to be angry at us."

"Good point…" George conceded. "Maybe she'll relent enough to let us have some dinner. It smelled really good."

Fred nodded and looked longingly at the door. To him, it was cruel and unusual punishment to be deprived of his mother's cooking, especially when you could smell it all the way to the twins' room.

With that, the two got to work. Fred cleaned out all the spilled potion globs on the floor, while George gathered everything together in a box. Neither boy spoke as he worked, hoping to finish soon enough that they could appease their mother.

A few minutes later they heard a knock at their door. Nervously, George opened the door to let their father in.

"Have you gotten everything cleaned up and put away?" Arthur asked them, still looking at them with the same expression that he'd worn when he'd told them to clean out their room.

They both nodded and George pointed to a few boxes filled with the potions supplies that they were apt to use. He waved his wand, sending them off to another location in the house, and said, "I'm sorry to do this, really, I am. But I don't think either of you really understands how dangerous this is. The fact that you would test these things on yourselves, without even alerting anyone, worries me more than I like to think about. I really hope you two can learn from this, for once."

Arthur's expression as he said this did not make the boys feel any better about the situation. He was normally the parent to take their side or at least quietly cheer them on somewhat behind their mother's back. It was plain to see though, that even without his speech a moment ago, the man was quite disappointed.

With that, he pulled the door shut behind him and left them alone in their room. George sat down on his bed and watched as Fred walked over and collapsed on the other bed. When the door had opened, it had brought more of the smell of dinner, making them even hungrier than they were before. Neither boy felt inclined to go ask for anything though, not wanting to push their mother.

They sat in silence, and no more than five minutes had passed before George heard his brother's breathing steady out, signaling that he was asleep. George just shook his head and rolled over, shutting off the light as he did so.

** Author's Note **

**There are a couple events in here that may not line up quite right with how JK wrote her books (such as Percy's being home) and I apologize now for anything that may be inaccurate. I've lost my HP books, so whatever info I need, I am finding from the HP wikis or lexicon. Other reasons might just be because it worked out better for my story to have something be slightly different (gotta love fanfiction!).**

**Thank you for reading! If you like it (or if you don't, I don't mind) please leave a review and let me know what you think. I am very open to suggestions!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Two (3398)**

The next day dawned sluggishly. It wasn't foggy, and it wasn't raining; there was just a lingering mist about which made everything damp and depressing. This sort of weather didn't worry the residents of the Burrow though. Once the morning passed, it would clear up and be a nice, warm day.

George was just waking up, looking forward to breakfast. He hated it when they made their mum mad enough to make them miss dinner. It didn't happen often, but she always seemed to do it when there was something particularly delicious for dinner that night.

Fred was still asleep in the exact same position he had fallen asleep in. George could smell breakfast being finished downstairs and nudged his brother. Fred rolled his head over to look at George blearily.

"Whadya wan?" He asked, not even half awake.

"Breakfast smells about done. Coming?"

Fred just moaned and rolled back over, pulling the blanket up over his head. George rolled his eyes at him and then opened and shut the door quietly. He walked into the kitchen to find that the only person there was his mum.

She didn't even acknowledge his presence even though she walked right by him twice. He knew he'd have to apologize – again – for what happened if he wanted her to speak to him. If he didn't, she'd give him and his twin the silent treatment until they did. After a minute, he took a breath and asked quietly, "Mum?"

She set the frying pan down and turned to look at him.

He met her gaze for a moment before looking down and saying, "I'm sorry about yesterday. You were right – we shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry that we got you so worried."

He heard his mother sigh and looked up in time to see her walk over and hug him. "George, it's okay. I just want to make sure that you're all safe, and with you two doing things like that, it's hard to ensure that you'll even live to become of-age."

George smiled and replied, "I promise that we will."

His mum smiled at him and turned back to the food she had been preparing. "Feel free to sit down sweetie, breakfast will be done in a few."

"Breakfast?" An excited voice rang from the doorway.

"Yes, Ron, food," George said, smiling and shaking his head. Ron just sat down and waited patiently. Well, at least as patiently as he could when there was food involved.

"Where's Fred? Isn't he coming down?" Molly asked.

"He's still sleeping," George replied as more Weasleys and other guests wandered over to sit at the kitchen table.

"Ah well," she muttered and then called to everyone, "breakfast is done! And if everyone will finish quickly, we'll be able to head out to Diagon Alley today."

The distinct sound of joy sprouted up from everyone at that information. Molly had decided that everyone had been cooped up in the house for too long, and that the perfect way to solve that was to take them out for a day. Then, when they got back, she would make them do the chores they missed.

Breakfast went by a lot better than last night's dinner had. Ron and Ginny were having fun giving George a bad time about last night, while Percy was still adding his opinions about their actions.

"Percy, nobody really listens to you, so why, and I mean _why_, do you keep talking?" George asked impatiently, looking across the table at his older brother.

Percy just sniffed indignantly at him and went back to eating his eggs. After a few more comments about Perfect Percy the Prefect, breakfast was over and everyone went to get their things.

"George, go get your brother, tell him we're leaving in five minutes," his mum told him.

He walked upstairs and went into their room, only to find Fred in the same position as before. Shaking his brother's shoulder, he said, "Fred. Get up."

Fred rolled over and asked, "Whas gonon? Lemme lone."

"Fred, are you feeling all right?"

Fred opened his eyes a bit more and looked at George. "I'm alright… so what's going on then?"

"We're going to Diagon Alley."

Fred moaned slightly and sat up, reaching over to grab his shoes. "Is mum still angry?"

"Nah, I apologized for us. The basic line of her response was 'please survive until you're seventeen.' But since she still hasn't seen you, you might want to be on the lookout, just in case."

"Great," Fred muttered, standing up. A moment later they were both walking downstairs and were standing in front of the fireplace with the rest of the group.

"Alright kids, we're going to go to the Leaky Cauldron, and then you can go look at the shops – but you have to stay with someone," Molly said, holding the bowl of floo powder out to them. Percy went first, followed by Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny.

George and Fred walked over to her and both of them grabbed some powder. Molly looked at Fred carefully and he said, "Do you still remember what George told you this morning?"

"Yes, Fred, I'm not so old that I wouldn't remember."

"Well, ditto to what he said then," Fred said, smiling slightly at her.

"Ah boys," she said, hugging them both, but pulled back and held them at arm's length as she said, "Just don't do it again!"

In a moment the group was standing in the Leaky Cauldron and they were splitting off to go look at the shops.

Fred and George both wandered off on their own, intending to visit Zonko's. They walked in and George immediately went over to the table full of new jokes or tricks and listened to what people were saying about them. It was a great way to get ideas for new products that could be made.

As they wandered around, George kept an eye on Fred. Something just didn't feel right. Fred was hardly paying attention to any of the jokes. George walked over to him and motioned for him to follow. They walked through the alley and looked in at different shops. George glanced at his twin, who had been fairly silent all morning.

"Are you alright Fred? You've been really quiet all day," he asked.

Fred looked over at him and replied, "Yeah, I just feel funny… Not physically, but just like my mind is really fuzzy. I dunno…"

"Do you think it's that potion?"

"Could be," Fred said, thinking about it.

"Should we tell someone?" George asked, looking concerned.

Fred noticed his expression and smiled and shook his head, "Nah, it'll probably go away soon enough anyways. Besides, mum would kill us if something actually happened because of it."

"This is true."

* * *

><p>The next hour passed quickly enough, just as a trip to Diagon Alley usually seemed to. Fred and George spent the time looking at various knick-knacks and suggesting ideas of how to use them in ways they weren't designed to until the shopkeepers <em>kindly <em>asked them to stop. There was always far too much to look at and explore than there was time in a day, even for someone who'd been there numerous times like any of the Weasleys. Everyone had been told to meet up at noon for lunch and two hours still remained until that time.

Fred still felt a bit off and, seeing as it was worrying George, decided to put more effort into concealing it. Upon realizing that they had two hours left of potential havoc-wreaking time, he suggested to George that they find someplace completely new that neither of them had seen before. The idea was intriguing to both of them and they set off down the alley in search.

Not even twenty minutes had passed them by before they realized that very little in the alley (aside from Knockturn Alley, and they both knew their mum would definitely kill them if they went there) was going to suffice as entertaining enough. Fred motioned towards the gate that led to the Leaky Cauldron and, from there, muggle London.

"I know it's slightly better than going into Knockturn Alley," commented George, "but I think mum will still have a fit if she finds out that we've _left_ the alley."

"Oh come on, we'll just go out for a couple of minutes. We've still got over an hour left anyways. She'll never need to know!" Fred exclaimed, already walking backwards towards the barrier.

"Wait, do you have any muggle money?" George asked.

"Why would we need that?" Fred responded, stopping in his retreat.

"Well, if we're going to have an adventure, we may as well get a souvenir."

"True… Do you think they may trade us some in the pub?" Fred asked.

"Only one way to find out!" George replied and gestured for Fred to go ahead of him. He was glad to see his brother acting more the norm than he had been all morning, even if what he was suggesting would only get them in trouble again. It wasn't like they weren't used to it anyways.

George looked behind him to make sure no one they knew saw them and then followed after his twin. The two entered the Leaky Cauldron and carefully made their way to the bar. Once there, George signaled for Tom the barkeep to come over. The twins asked him if he would trade some galleons for muggle notes.

Tom eyed both of them and said, "I will, this once. However, you should know that I am not a bank." He took their galleons and gave them what looked to be about twelve pounds in notes and coins. The twins glanced at each other with a look that wanted to question the exchange rate, but a long glance from Tom told them to accept it and enjoy it.

The two exited the pub after thanking Tom and looked around. Thankfully, they had worn muggle style clothing, so they wouldn't have a problem on the outside. They watched the cars and pedestrians go by for a moment before Fred turned to George and said in a lofty and arrogant voice, "Well, dear boy, where to now, eh?"

George held his hand out as if he were drinking tea, complete with the pinky finger extended, and replied in the same voice, "Why, I do believe it's near enough to tea-time, don't you? Let us make haste to fantastical place!"

The two laughed and started down the street. They walked down about three blocks and stopped to look around.

"I don't see a shop around that sells tea, dear boy," Fred noted.

"Hmm… Perhaps we should observe the locals for a wee bit?" George answered.

The two snickered and watched as a number of muggles walked by on the sidewalk they were on. As they stood there, a voice rose up over that of others around it, effectively catching the twins' attention.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," the voice, which belonged to a man their father's age, stated. "No, I'm on my break, so I'm just heading up to Starbucks now." The man paused and then said, "Yeah, that'd be great - meet me there. We can get a coffee and catch up."

The man had just passed the twins and George turned to Fred.

"Did you hear that?"

"I did, dear boy," Fred answered.

"Operation: follow muggle who talks to himself?"

"I think he was on a fellytone, actually."

"Or was he?" George questioned.

Fred looked at him with comically wide eyes and said, "Well, now we _have_ to follow him, just to find out if he's sane or not!"

The two took after the man and listened to snippets of his conversation (with himself or another person, they still hadn't decided) as they took turn after turn and got further from the Leaky Cauldron.

"Look, George, he's got some sort of false ear," Fred whispered, pointing to the man's left ear where a strange device was attached.

"Muggle disease, you think?" George reckoned.

Fred nodded, still staring at the thing which had a blinking light on it. The man ahead of them was oblivious to his audience and kept walking on. "Could be. If it's not, we should get one."

Finally, they arrived at the mysterious Starbucks. The man they had followed there had started throwing glances their way; obviously he had noticed that they had been following him. Apparently pointing, whispering, and stalking were suspicious enough to garner such looks. Neither Fred nor George paid him any mind though. They read through the list of beverages on the wall behind the registers.

"What on earth is a frapp… frappu…. Is it said 'shino' or 'chino,' what do you think?" George asked.

"No idea… What do you think a 'ma-chi-atto' is?" Fred asked.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," George muttered. "But on the bright side, they do seem to have good ole coffee and tea."

"Why stick with that when we can try something completely different?"

As they tried to pick out a drink that sounded good, a girl who seemed a bit older than they were in front of them was asked for her drink. "Yeah, I'll have a grande peppermint latte, no foam and with whip cream, thanks," was her reply.

Fred and George watched her get her beverage as the man they followed got a regular coffee. Fred looked at George who shrugged, and then both were interrupted by a young woman behind the counter.

"Hey there! What would you two like to drink?" She was very cheerful and seemed like she'd been sampling the coffee a bit much. Her hair was styled in pigtails with a small plumeria hair tie on each side of her head. There was no doubt that her personality fit her part-time job quite well.

George pointed at the girl with the peppermint latte who was walking by to leave while Fred stopped her and asked, "Is that delicious?"

The girl looked at him and smiled and replied, "I should hope so, for how much they charge me."

"But is it delicious?"

"Do you like peppermint?" She asked in answer.

"Yes," Fred and George both replied.

"Then yes, it is very delicious," she laughed and walked outside.

Fred turned back to the girl behind the counter and said, "Right, we'll have exactly whatever it is that she ordered! Two of them!"

After exchanging the strange muggle money (the girl laughed at them when they seemed confused by the notes before plucking the one she needed) the two boys waited near the counter for their drinks.

When the lattes arrived, the twins each took tentative sips before smiling widely and loudly thanking the girls behind the counter for making such wonderful concoctions. Everyone in the shop stared at them until they walked out, including the man they had followed who was sitting with another person (he must _not_ have been insane after all!).

Once outside the shop, George turned to Fred and suggested that they head back to Diagon Alley.

Fred sipped his latte and then said, "Great plan, dear boy! Which way is it?"

George looked around and answered, "I have no idea. That way, maybe?" He suggested, pointing to their left. Fred shrugged his shoulders and they walked together for a few blocks before George stopped.

"This doesn't even look familiar," he commented, staring at the buildings around him in confusion.

"We could ask someone where the Leaky Cauldron is," Fred suggested.

"But everyone here is a muggle."

"And they can't see it."

"And we can't remember…"

"Mum's going to kill us," Fred moaned quietly, stepping closer to the road to avoid a group of schoolchildren that were hurrying past. His eyes widened as he saw that the two adults with the small children had apparently tied all the kids together. Although the real reason was to ensure they would stay together and not wander off, he immediately thought much worse.

"George, look at that!" He whispered dramatically, pointing at the kids and the two adults, who were giving them strange looks.

"Do you think Filch works a summer job down here at a muggle school, perhaps?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Fred responded. The kids turned the corner and he sighed and shrugged his shoulders at George.

George looked up and down the street they were on and then towards the one they'd just come across. "Well, we could go left or right on this one – maybe it'll lead back?"

"Let's go right this time. Left didn't work out so well last time," Fred said. George nodded and they took a right. Once again, nothing was looking familiar and the two were starting to get worried that they wouldn't find the pub in time to meet their parents.

They stopped again and Fred sighed loudly. "Whose dumb idea was this?"

"Yours."

"Shut up."

George laughed at his twin but stopped when Fred didn't join in. "Well, on the bright side," he started in the effort to cheer Fred up, "we did get to try these delicious drinks."

"Hn… Too bad we'll never live to try another one after mum finds out we've gone and gotten ourselves lost in muggle London," Fred replied, staring at the ground.

"Okay, it's gotta be right around here. We couldn't have walked that far from it, right?" George said, hoping that Fred would play along.

Fred looked at him and then sat down on the curb. He took another drink of the latte and said, "How many lefts and rights do you think we took before? I can't even remember… We could split up and look for it."

George had been counting in his head the turns that he remembered but the thoughts stopped at Fred's suggestion. Split up? He stared at his twin for a moment and opened his mouth to say something that would question the other's intelligence, but before he could, a familiar voice reached them.

"What on earth are you doing here!" George twisted around quickly to see his father and Percy walking towards them. He felt his shoulders relax at the thought that they wouldn't have to split up to find the pub, but they tightened again at the look on his father's face.

Percy also decided that it would be important for them to know his opinion on the matter. "You two have to be the most idiotic pair of wizards to ever exist, do you know that? I mean honestly, leaving the alley, which is a stupid thing to do in and of itself, and then not having a single clue as to how to get back?"

George bristled and replied, "Oh bugger off, will you Percy? Just because we got a little confused doesn't mean-"

Their father interrupted him and said, "Don't you tell him to bugger off. You knew that you were supposed to stay in the alley! For Merlin's sake, do we have to lay everything out for you in black and white _every_ time we come here? Do you have any idea what would've happened if the wrong people saw you out and about in muggle London?"

George sucked in a breath but didn't know what to say. He glanced at Fred and was surprised and a bit irritated to see that he hadn't even turned around to watch the argument. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists before turning back to his father while opening his eyes to glare at the ground.

"We didn't mean to-"

"Of course you didn't mean to!" Arthur shouted, attracting the attention of a few passing muggles. "You never _mean _to do anything that you end up doing. You boys need to _think_ before you act for once in your life before…" The older man trailed off, not wanting to get any angrier than he already was, and turned to march back in the direction that the pub was probably in.

Percy took the opportunity to tilt his head up and stare down at him in a haughty manner. "You're just lucky that we found you before-"

"Percy I swear I will strangle you if you don't shut up," George growled at his older brother. Percy huffed and turned to follow their father who was about half a block away at that point.

George rounded on Fred and questioned, "What was that all about?"

Fred just looked at him as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"You could have helped me out a bit there, pal," George said, sounding offended. And truly, he was. He and Fred always worked together, even when the going got tough, like it did a few minutes ago. That Fred would let George face it alone like that irked George more than the imminent lecture they were sure to get from their mum.

Fred never replied to him, opting to walk down the street to where their father was impatiently waiting. George sighed and followed after, wondering for the first time what was going on in his twin's mind. It was a foreign feeling for him after years of knowing exactly how the other would react. He wasn't sure what caused it all, but he knew one thing: he didn't like it at all.

**To those that review, thank you very much! (I giggle like an excited schoolgirl whenever I get one) To everyone else, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know, either way! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Three**

The impending lecture from their mum was certainly one to best all the previous ones, except for possibly that time they'd tried to make Ron make an unbreakable vow. The woman had nearly lost her voice screaming at them before sending them to their room. Once again, they missed out on dinner, although neither of them really felt hungry after the disapproving looks and comments they had received for the last several hours. The twins' younger siblings and their friends all gave them pitying looks, but none of them tried to intervene so as to lessen the storm raging from Molly Weasley. They had dreams of living to see the next school year, after all.

The two had been instructed to clean their room of any joke product supplies (and Mum meant ANYTHING that could be used as a joke product supply) before the end of the night. This judgment had come after the lengthy lecture when their mum's voice started showing signs of weariness. It was also at this point that George was about ready to strangle his beloved twin.

During the length of the lecture, which had started in Diagon Alley and ended several hours later at home in the kitchen, Fred hadn't said a single word. Their mum had demanded an explanation of exactly why they had decided to leave the alley and, of all things, "go for a walk in London to get a coffee together." George had started to answer the questions and every time he paused, his irritation grew a bit greater when Fred didn't even try to finish or add to the explanation.

It was at the point when George tried to apologize for them both that both he and his mother lost patience. Her reason was that she didn't want to hear another empty apology and promise of good future behavior after the one she'd received that same morning. George's reason was due to the continued silence of his twin and the seeming disinterest he held for the situation as a whole.

The second their mother gave them instructions to clean out their entire room of product materials, Fred was turning to the stairs. George stalked after him, holding out hope that Fred would explain himself once they were alone. His twin opened the door to their room and immediately walked to his bed and reached under it, pulling out a box of sticks that had been bewitched back at Hogwarts to turn into snakes and back to sticks when the 'magic' word was uttered around them. Fred picked the box up and began to walk to the door but was stopped by George's hand on the doorframe.

Fred didn't look at him as he waited for his brother to move. Frustrated at the fact that he couldn't really read his twin's expression, George glared at him and asked moodily, "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Fred's eyes moved to meet George's and he responded flatly, "You heard her, we have to-"

"I'm not talking about that!" George growled out strongly but quietly enough that the rest of the family wouldn't hear him. The last thing he wanted to do was give their mum a reason to yell at them again.

"Well then you should be more specific."

"I should be-?" George started to shout, but lowered his voice and ground out, "Why didn't you at least try to help me explain what happened? We're supposed to work together or did you forget that?"

"You thought it was such a bad idea before we left the alley, why didn't you just-"

"Of course I thought it was stupid!" George cut him off. "But that's not the point. We do things together. I don't care if we get in trouble as long as we're in it together."

"Why are you so bloody angry at me?" Fred snapped, finally showing an emotion other than disinterest. "You say that I should have helped you out? What was wrong with just shutting the hell up?" Fred glared at his twin and George practically shook with frustration.

"You know plain well that if both of us hadn't said a word, that mum would've snapped even more than she already did!" George countered. "Hell, most of the reason we're up here now and not still being shouted at is because I at least tried to apologize and explain this whole mess!" He whispered angrily.

"Well aren't you a bloody saint!" Fred exclaimed and pushed past George to take the box out to the hallway.

George couldn't believe that his twin, the person he got along with and understood better than anyone in the world, was acting like such a different person. As Fred shoved past him to get another box of supplies, George remembered the way Fred had been acting that morning. Although he'd never heard of a potion causing someone to become a bigger prat than Percy, he had to hold out hope.

"Wait a minute, Fred," George said, stopping his twin as he was taking another box from the room, this one filled with a number of green candies. Fred stopped and gave him an expectant look. "This is because of that stupid potion you took the other night, isn't it? You didn't feel good this morning and-"

He didn't get a chance to finish as Fred shoved past him to drop the box none too gently in the hallway. George wasn't about to let it go though, not if the way Fred was acting was being caused by something else entirely. It at least explained why Fred had been acting so out of character that day.

"That potion's affecting you," George paused as Fred ducked back into their room again. "And it was supposed to alter the mood of the drinker, but without the spell it's-"

"Oh will you give it a bloody rest already and help me clean out the room?" Fred demanded, standing to face him.

George shook his head and said, "No, we need to go let mum know what's going on. This'll help explain why we went off today and then they can-"

"Wait, you're going to blame all of this on me?" Fred exclaimed in anger.

"No, that's not what I-"

"And the way I'm acting _must _be the work of something else? You just can't handle that maybe I don't think exactly like you? And if I leave the path we've been on, it must be the work of someone or something else?" Fred argued loudly.

"Of course I don't-"

"And who's to say you aren't the one that-"

"SHUT UP!" George yelled. "Stop interrupting me and being an absolute prick for five minutes!"

"Why? What are you going to do about it?" Fred shouted back, stepping closer to George.

George clenched his fists and growled, "I am not fucking joking Fred! Why can't you-"

"No, why can't _you_ see!" Fred shouted and moved to say more but was abruptly cut off by a hard shove that pushed him back into their room. He stumbled back a bit and glared at George.

"Fred, just listen to me for once," George started to say, but was stopped as Fred moved towards him and punched him in the stomach. George felt his self-restraint falling apart as his anger and frustration grew even more, and he spun around and aimed a fist at his twin.

The group downstairs had been quiet after the twins went to their room. The other children had noticed the tension between Fred and George that normally wasn't there and it worried them. They were all a bit afraid of Mrs. Weasley's wrath at the moment and were very glad that the previous lecture was not directed at them.

Mrs. Weasley was dishing up food onto their plates and being a bit violent about it before Mr. Weasley moved in to help. No one, not even Percy, was brave enough to comment about the events that had transpired that day. They ate in silence for once.

Only a few minutes had passed before a thump was heard in the hallway upstairs. Everyone assumed it was the twins moving boxes of supplies out of their room. A couple minutes passed before everyone could hear what sounded like the twins arguing. The thought was so foreign to everyone though that no one reacted at first. The voices got louder and louder until it sounded like something (or someone) had crashed into something else.

At the sound of the crash, everyone downstairs froze except for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who both stood and moved towards the staircase.

A few moments before that, George had gotten another punch in and was trying to find a way to end the fight that had broken out. Fred tripped him and ground out, "Leave me the fuck alone and worry about your own damn self!"

George picked himself back up and grabbed Fred's arm to stop him. Fred turned around to swing another punch at his twin but George was quicker. He aimed for the jaw, the same place he'd first him at, and hit his brother with more anger than he thought he had.

Fred didn't just fall backwards or stumble for a bit, but tumbled back down the stairs that had been behind him. George's eyes widened as Fred hit the stairs and slammed against the wall of the lower landing.

Neither twin moved for a second as the shock set it of what had just happened. In that second, both of their parents came into view and it was hard to say whether or not they looked more shocked than the twins did. Their mum gathered herself after a moment and bent down to look at Fred. Just as she got down to his level on the floor, he stood up abruptly and, after swaying slightly and grabbing the wall, shoved past his mother and out towards the front door.

George stared after him for a moment before sinking down to sit on the step closest to their room. He vaguely heard his mum tell his dad to go look for Fred as he put his head in his hands. He couldn't believe what had just happened. There was no way that this was just a coincidence. It would be easy enough to get their parents to see it, but George didn't want to involve them at the moment. They didn't need any more stress than they'd had in the last two days and besides, it was just as much his fault as it was Fred's. They had both decided to make and try that potion.

He moved his hands to the back of his neck and thought about how to fix the situation while his mother came upstairs to check on him. His mind was so preoccupied that he hardly heard a word she said.

* * *

><p>Molly Weasley had known that something was off between her twin boys earlier. She had seen the looks that George kept giving to Fred and how Fred wasn't responding to either her or his twin. She had assumed that he felt guilty about what had happened and for making everyone worry so much. She never imagined that those two boys would be fighting in such a way though. They had small differences that arose every now and then, but the two always found ways around them. To hear the tell-tale signs of a fight erupting accompanied by them shouting at each other was not something she was entirely prepared for, but after handling Bill and Charlie, she knew she'd figure something out.<p>

After seeing one of her two twin boys being thrown down the stairs however… Her heart had nearly stopped at the sight of it. Both of them had bruises on their faces and bloody noses, but what worried her most was how angry they had looked. At that moment she questioned whether or not she had been too harsh on them and whether her reaction to their actions led them to this.

When the shock settled ever so slightly, she left the strict mother behind and went to kneel down before the twin that had been thrown down the stairs. She realized as she got closer that it was Fred, and she wondered if he would say anything now. The chance of talking to him or helping him up was taken away as he pulled himself up and swayed for a moment before steadying himself against the wall.

He then shoved right past her without even acknowledging her or Arthur and bolted to the front door. Trying to maintain some control over what was disintegrating in front of her, she asked Arthur to go after Fred and see if he was okay or not. Arthur paused for a moment and then pulled out his wand and followed Fred's path.

Molly gazed up the stairs and her heart fell to see George with his head in his hands on the step nearest his room. Debris from their room that had previously been organized (or as organized as anything the twins had could be) in a few boxes was strewn about the floor around him. She slowly climbed the stairs and sat next to him as he moved his hands to his neck.

"Georgie, what happened?" She asked quietly.

He didn't respond for a while. He stared at the place where he'd last seen his twin and finally whispered, his voice raw, "I don't know… I'm… I'm going to finish this," waving a hand to the mess around him.

She put her hand on his knee, but it didn't stop him as he stood and began picking things up from the floor. Molly sat on the top step for a while and listened to the sounds of George picking things up and putting them back into boxes. She could tell by how harsh his breathing was that he wasn't nearly done with the disagreement he'd had with his twin. Looking out towards where she knew the front door was, she hoped that Arthur was having better luck with Fred.

* * *

><p>Arthur was not, in fact, having any luck finding Fred. He took his wand out and whispered "Point me," in efforts of finding his son. It spun and then pointed towards the trees out across the field. He sighed and added a 'lumos' charm so that he could see in the nearly pitch black night that had settled in around the countryside.<p>

He was about as shocked as Molly was at what had just happened. The twins' actions earlier in the day, what with leaving the alley, had been alarming, but it was something that they had come to accept as part of being the parents of Fred and George. However, a full out fight between the two boys resulting in one of them running from the house was the last thing he thought would have happened. If anything, he had thought they would form an alliance _against_ their parents due to 'unfair treatment' or something of the like.

He sighed, and continued on towards the trees. Finally, he reached the edge of the small forest and whispered "Point me" once again. He let his lit wand guide him about fifty yards into the trees until it spun around, pausing to point in no single direction. Stopping, he waved his wand around to see if Fred was somewhere right near him but not visible due to the dark. Still, he could see nothing.

Just when he began to fear if the twins had gone and learned apparition on their own, he heard a noise above him and pointed his wand upwards into the tree next to him. On the third branch up was Fred, his arms wrapped around himself with one leg dangling down below him.

Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to climb the tree. He could barely fathom how Fred was able to climb it after taking a tumble down the stairs. Of course, without talking to or looking closely at the boy, he had no idea how badly he was injured. He could see that blood had been wiped from his nose and it looked like he had another cut on his forehead, but that was all Arthur could see from his vantage point.

"Fred?" Arthur called up softly, "Are you alright, son?"

Fred closed his eyes and didn't answer him. Arthur waited for a moment to see if he was thinking of a response but it soon became obvious that he wasn't.

"Will you come down so we can talk?" Arthur asked.

Ever so slightly, he saw Fred shake his head to say "no." The older man sighed and contemplated forcing the boy down from the tree. He knew that it would do more harm than good at this point though.

"Fred, I need to know that you're okay. Can you-"

"I'm fine…" Fred whispered so quietly that Arthur barely heard him. "I just want… to be alone for a bit. I'll go back in a while…" he trailed off, opening his eyes to gaze through the trees.

Arthur debated whether or not to let Fred stay out. In the end, he decided that it would be easier to let the boy come back on his own rather than to force him. Besides, there was nowhere in the house where Fred could be alone without the risk of being badgered by siblings, friends, or his mum.

"Okay. Do you have your wand?" Arthur asked. He received a nod. "If you need me, send a signal and I'll come out right away, okay?" Fred nodded again.

Arthur waited a moment more before turning to go back to the house. As he drew closer, he could see the silhouette of George continuing to clean out his and Fred's room. He shook his head and hoped that this wasn't something that was going to continue on much further.

**I applaud you if you're still reading! Please send a review and let me know what you think (even if it's a flame – go on, I can take it!). I'm not just writing this for my own enjoyment, so let me know what you'd like to see happen next, or if you think I'm being too mean to the characters (I have a tendency to do that). The poor baristas at Starbucks mixed up my latte and I may or may not have taken it out upon the twins… oops? **

**Question: Do you think I should add a bit from Fred's POV? I wasn't planning on it, but I will if you want to see it. Please let me know! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Four**

'_Well, that was different,' _Fred thought as he pulled himself up onto a branch where he could rest for a minute. He figured this was as good a spot as any to pause in his escape from the Burrow, or rather, from his traitorous thoughts. He settled into a somewhat comfortable position and used his sleeve to wipe away a bit of blood from his face. He wasn't sure when he'd started bleeding, but he figured it was around the time that George's punch to the face had sent Fred careening down the stairs. He clenched his fists bitterly as he recollected the fight between him and his twin.

Despite what he had said to George, Fred did worry that the previous day's potion was affecting him. The littlest things around him that never seemed to irritate him, now grated on his nerves to a point where he felt he would explode. Everything seemed louder and closer than it needed to be and, while he'd never felt claustrophobic in any way, he imagined that it must feel something like this.

What he couldn't understand was how easily he let it control what he said and did. Never would he have picked a fight with George under normal circumstances. He would have moved with his twin throughout the lecture from their mother and the two would have joked about it later – though not when their mum could hear them. They weren't stupid, nor were they suicidal.

He shifted on his branch, wrapping his arms around himself as a particularly cool breeze swept by. The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt about what he'd said to George. Part of him wondered if he hadn't been right on at least a few levels about what he'd said. A spark of anger lit in his mind as he pondered George's idea – to blame all of this insanity (or was it?) on Fred and that potion. A shred of doubt lingered in Fred's thoughts as to whether all of this anger that he'd felt in the evening wasn't warranted, or at least had some basis in reason.

Before he could dwell on it much further, Fred heard crunching footsteps making their way through the trees. By the light of the wand that was held below him, Fred could see his father's face. The spark of anger rose into a small, flickering flame as he thought, _'Can't they just let me be for a bit?'_

Fred looked away as the wand's light landed on him. After a moment, he heard his father ask, "Fred? Are you alright son?"

Fred closed his eyes and tried desperately to not let his anger escape him. At this point, he wasn't sure if he was actually angry or not, but he knew for certain that he didn't want to talk to his father. Or did he? _'Damn,' _he thought with frustration, _'I can't tell if what I'm thinking is really me or if it's that potion…' _

His dad's voice interrupted his train of thought by asking, "Will you come down so we can talk?" His voice sounded a bit strained, as if he was worried or nervous. Fred shook his head to say "no" in response to the question, drawing a soft sigh from his dad.

Not to be deterred easily, his father said, "Fred, I need to know that you're okay. Can you–"

"I'm fine…" Fred whispered, not trusting his voice to go much louder. He wanted so much to be left alone right now, even though the idea itself seemed alien to him. "I just want… to be alone for a bit. I'll go back in a while…" he trailed off, opening his eyes to look around at his surroundings. He desperately hoped that his father would let him be, or else he wasn't sure what he'd do. He felt like he was nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time, and that those tingling feelings were fueling his irritation to a higher level than before.

As his nerves tingled, Fred thought over and over, _'Leave me be, leave me be, leave me be…'_

"Okay. Do you have your wand?" Fred sighed in relief at that question and quickly nodded back. "If you need me, send a signal and I'll come out right away, okay?" Fred felt himself nod again, still not looking down through the leaves to where his father was standing.

The older man seemed to hesitate before turning away, and Fred had a brief urge to call for him to stay. He refrained though, and felt his anger grow even more at both his father for leaving him out here and himself for allowing this to happen. He shook his head rather suddenly, hoping to clear his head, but it didn't work.

He stayed out amongst the trees for a couple hours before the cold made him start to shiver. Fred finally felt somewhat calm again and hoped that however this potion was affecting him, that it would stop soon. He silently pledged to discuss it with George the next day, providing that his twin wouldn't toss him down the stairs again. With those thoughts in mind, he made his way back to the Burrow.

Instead of heading back up to his room, he fell onto the downstairs couch and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Molly noticed that, at some point in the night, Fred had decided to come back up to the Burrow. His choice not to go to his and George's room was obvious to see when she walked down the steps earlier than usual to prepare breakfast. She started at finding him curled up on the couch but then moved to cover him with a blue and gray quilt that was lying over the top of the couch. Sure enough, he pulled the quilt closer for extra warmth.<p>

Molly moved to the kitchen to prepare tea and a light breakfast that didn't involve nearly the amount that she was used to. Both she and Arthur had stayed up late the night before to discuss the twins' behavior and she found herself wishing that she too had decided to sleep in like everyone else.

While she was preparing the toast and eggs, George was beginning to stir. He opened his eyes and then shut them for two reasons: it was unnaturally bright in his and Fred's room and his face hurt. Shielding his eyes from the light, he peered through his fingers at the window that was allowing brilliant rays of sunshine to stream in. He glared at it as best he could and then lay back down.

He slowly recalled the details of the previous night and groaned when he realized that Fred had not returned to their room. George stood up and sleepily found some clothes to wear while hoping that today would go much more smoothly than the previous ones.

Almost as if in sync, George, along with Percy, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry came down the stairs, following the scents of "food, delicious food" as Ron had called it. All of the children noticed Fred getting up from one of the couches but each of them chose wisely not to point the fact out. He came over to the table, not seeming to notice the curious looks he was receiving, and sat right next to George as he always had.

George had just opened his mouth to say something to Fred, although he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, when their mother walked up to the table with plates of breakfast items trailing after her. They landed on the table and no sooner had they found a place than half the food seemed to disappear to Ron's plate.

"Goodness Ronald," Hermione scolded as he began devouring his breakfast, "do you even taste the flavor of the food when you eat so much so quickly?"

"And have you ever considered all the starving kids in Africa?" Arthur commented while stabbing a sausage with his fork. Everyone looked at him with questioning glances, having never heard anything mentioned about kids starving in Africa before.

"Arthur, what on earth…" Molly started to say, almost amazed that she still hadn't completely figured out where he came up with the things he said or did after the number of years they had been married.

"I heard a muggle woman say that to her child!" Arthur explained, excited to share the information. "I asked her what she meant and she said that children in Africa don't have enough food, so we should not be wasteful of what we have and eat what we are given!"

Everyone else, especially Hermione, seemed to nod or at least think about what he said for a moment before going back to eating. After a few bites had been managed though, Fred set his fork down and looked at his father with a thoughtful look on his face.

"That doesn't make any sense, Dad," Fred said. "If there are kids starving in Africa, then we should save the extra food we don't need and send it to them, not eat it just so it doesn't go to waste."

Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing, some holding a forkful of food just an inch from their mouths, and stared at him. George was looking sideways at him trying to figure out if he'd hit his head during their brief brawl or if he was trying to be humorous.

Fred seemed to realize that they were waiting to see what else he would say and turned his eyes to his plate. George thought he almost detected a bit of nervousness or apprehension in his twin's expression. Nevertheless, Fred stabbed a piece of toast covered in egg and, before eating it, said, "We should send the extra food to Africa. Or, if anything, send Ron – there should be enough food in him to feed the whole continent."

George and Fred shared the briefest of looks before turning back to their plates as if nothing had been said. The looks they shared often conveyed more of what they were thinking than anything they could have said, and Fred's look had spoken volumes about how nervous he felt. George almost didn't know how to react to it, but decided that they best route would be to play along for the time being.

During the twins' silent conversation, Ginny and Harry were fighting back a laugh while Ron sputtered indignantly at the insult. Even Hermione and the Weasley parents were trying to hide smiles. Percy was the only one at the table that truly didn't seem to get it.

"That wouldn't work at all," Percy said, pointing his fork at Fred in an effort to treat the comment like an actual, serious suggestion. "Ron can't give them the food that he has already eaten – it would be no good to them."

At this point, George broke in by saying with an equally serious voice, "Besides mate, if we sent Ron, he'd eat all of their food too, and then they'd starve even more."

Fred raised his eyes to the ceiling in mock contemplation and then held his fork up similar to how Percy had held his and said, "I do believe you're right. We could send Mum. She'd cook for them and fatten them all up in a day's time."

"She would, yes," George agreed, smiling. "But then who would feed us?"

"Right, of course. We would starve without Mum!" Fred exclaimed.

"And then you know what would happen-"George commented, nodding his head.

"That phrase of Dad's would have to change-"

"It'd be 'There are starving kids at the Burrow, so eat your food!'"

"And we'd still be stuck with Ron, so any food we got would be devoured before us savagely!" Fred finished, looking thoroughly dismayed at the prospects before them.

Ron, meanwhile, had decided to ignore the two of them and continued eating his breakfast, taking seconds and thirds of some of the dishes. Everyone else was smiling over at the twins, happy to see that they were getting along again and up to their usual morning mischief of making Ron mad.

As they were finishing up breakfast, Arthur asked Molly what the plans were for the day. Everyone looked towards her and put on their sweetest expressions, hoping that they wouldn't get selected for an undesirable chore.

"The garden needs to be de-gnomed, the windows need to be cleaned, the floors swept, and the kitchen pantry reorganized. Volunteers?" Molly asked, knowing that she would have to assign almost all of it to unwilling children.

"We'll take the kitchen, Mum," Fred voiced while finishing off the last of his eggs. George looked at him with wide eyes and wondered once again what had been knocked loose in his twin's brain the night before. Nevertheless, she looked at them and smiled pleasantly. Percy volunteered to clean the windows while Hermione and Ginny chose to sweep the floors and Harry and Ron were stuck with the gnomes.

"Right then," she said authoritatively, "get to work and if you're good, you can use the backyard for quidditch afterwards." Everyone's faces brightened at this possibility as they stood up and took their plates to the kitchen.

"I've got laundry to do amidst other things," their mother said. "Do either of you need anything before working on the pantry?" She asked while eyeing them both to see if they truly had moved past whatever happened last night.

"No, Mum, we're great," George said, smiling at her along with Fred. Neither of their smiles looked quite right with the bruises darkening their eyes and cheeks, but no matter. Molly figured that if they had come to some sort of resolution, then she would not interfere with it.

Their mum turned to head upstairs and George took a moment to think about Fred's abrupt shift in attitude from the night before. He was trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and, while George longed for that to be true, he knew that they needed to discuss the fight in order to avoid another one.

George turned around to see his twin already moving things around in the pantry and setting ingredients and food containers onto the floor and countertops. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, he said, "Fred, we need to talk about what happened last night. We've never-"

"Nothing happened," Fred interrupted. He didn't even know what made him say it. He'd planned to discuss it with George, but as the morning dragged on, he felt that same tingling irritation and anger attack his nerves. It was almost as if whatever was affecting him was stronger when he was around his family, for he had felt perfectly calm while walking back to the Burrow a few hours before sunrise. Deciding that it might be the best route, Fred chose to try and let what happened yesterday go and hopefully it would put an end to this nagging feeling.

George stared at his twin for a moment and exclaimed, "Nothing happened? If nothing happened, then how on earth do you explain that bruise on your face? Or the ones on mine?"

'_Bloody hell!' _Fred thought, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from him in anger, "Oh, you mean when you pushed me down the stairs?" Fred turned towards the pantry and thought, _'Damnit! Why did I say that?'_

Closing his eyes, George replied, "_That_ was an accident, and that wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about how you went crazy and threw a punch at me in the middle of cleaning our room out!" His voice was rising to match his frustration and he tried to quiet it so that their mum and siblings wouldn't hear. "I _know_ this is an effect from that potion and-"

"You're right." Fred stated, even though it was hard to actually get the words out, and he couldn't figure out why. "Though I don't think you should go blaming that potion entirely. We _are_ capable of disagreeing, whether you like it or not."

"Whether I like it or- what are you, trying to disagree just to prove a point?" George asked, remembering now what had got him so frustrated as to participate in a fight with his twin.

Fred mentally cringed and wanted to apologize, but what came out was cutting remark. "You know what? If it's the potion's work, then I'm glad I took it, because now I don't have to act just like you." He picked up a can of something that probably shouldn't still be good and bit his lip. A look at George showed how much his words hurt his twin, and he tried to amend them, "That's – that's not what I meant…"

"Save it," George snapped, turning to the pantry and beginning to remove cans without even looking at them.

"Giving up so soon?" Fred asked sarcastically and then swore, causing George to look at him with questioning expression. Fred didn't even bother trying to take it back and chose to remain quiet, letting himself get distracted by a can of something that might have been beans in a past life.

The two worked in silence, an unusual thing for them, as they made separate groups of "good" food and "off" food. After a few minutes, Fred looked over at George and stated, being sure to say his words carefully, "I'm going to go ask Mum where she wants the food that's gone off." A seemingly apathetic shrug from George drove that spark even higher and Fred added sarcastically, despite his intention not to, "Unless you think some potion might lead me astray in the moments that I'm out of your sight."

George slammed a can down onto the floor irately, but refused to further acknowledge his twin's words. Fred didn't wait for a response and headed out of the kitchen. George shook his head and thought of how he would deal with the problems being caused by that potion Fred had drunk. It seemed like Fred did recognize that his strange behavior was different or unusual, and that he was being controlled somehow by a potion. The part that had George worrying, however, was the potential for truth in some of Fred's comments. What if it wasn't just the potion talking?

Just as he decided to speak to their mum after they had finished, he grabbed a couple of cans from the pantry and, by the amount of rust, was able to determine that they were probably no longer edible to anyone except Ron.

He leaned into the pantry to grab another can when he heard his mum and Fred come into the kitchen. George listened to their mum's instructions as he continued to pile up cans.

"The food that's gone off can be left just outside the door where your father can deal with it," Molly directed them while pointing a finger towards the door she was speaking of. She regarded them for a moment before adding, "I'm glad you two have worked through whatever happened last night–"

A derisive snort of laughter sounded through the kitchen, and George and his mum looked at Fred, who was glaring back over at George. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but George cut him off before he could start.

"Mum, can I talk to you in the living room?" He asked, already standing up.

Fred knew what George would talk to her about and a small part of him really wanted her to be able to fix this, but a larger, outside force seemed to push him to argue against it. It was almost like a virus infecting his thoughts, with the cure just out of his reach. Even as he felt the angry words pile up on his tongue, he bit down on them to stop them from escaping.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say right here, George," their mum replied.

'_No! Go in the other room before I–"_ Fred thought, but interrupted himself by commenting, "Yeah, George, tell her about how you just can't stand me anymore and that the reason just _must _be–"

"Shut up!" George snapped, before speaking to their mum, "That potion's affecting him and we need–"

"Oh, I'm affected, poor me. Whatever will you lot do now?" Fred commented, rolling his eyes, though this time the words were all his own. He'd meant for them to come out as a joke, although the effect was lost on his twin and mother.

" – We need to find a way to reverse it," George finished his statement that Fred had tried to cut off. Their mum held up a hand just as Fred turned to say something else.

"That's it! I will contact the Headmaster and have _both_ of you checked out," she stated, and her expression asked for no comments on the matter. "Now, _you_," she said, pointing to George, "will take the cans to the door, and _you_," she said, now looking at Fred, "will continue sorting the pantry out.

Both Fred and George started to protest her idea, as well as the chore itself, before they were interrupted.

Molly held up her hands to silence them, and the two looked down, both recognizing that this was not the time to test her. "I don't want to hear anymore about this. I'm going to owl Headmaster Dumbledore and see if he has any ideas and then both of you will be tested to see if anything is affecting you."

"Mum, I don't need to be tested. He's the one that drank the potion and so he's the only one that should be looked at!" George argued, waving a hand at his twin.

"Young man, don't argue with me," his mum warned. George looked to the floor as she said, "Right now, you're not doing a great job at persuading me that _you_ weren't the one to drink it. Therefore, I will have both of you looked at. Now," she said, giving them another expectant look, "you two still have to reorganize that pantry and I expect it to be done by lunch."

With that, she marched out of the room to write a letter concerning her twin sons. The twins listened to her leave before Fred turned to the pantry and began removing more items.

George shook his head but wisely chose to remain silent. He knew that anything he said would provoke a reaction from Fred (or was it the potion?) which would result in bringing their increasingly frustrated mother back into the room. He sighed and grabbed a load of cans to take to the door while Fred continued to clear out the pantry.

Fred finished moments before George did and went over to the dining table as their mother walked in to prepare lunch. Clenching his fists at the fact that Fred didn't wait for him, George finished quickly and asked his mum if she needed anything and, being turned down, joined Fred at the table as Ron and Harry also sat down. Both of the twins studiously ignored each other in favor of listening to Ron complain.

"You'd think that with all the magic out there, they would invent a fence for gardens that would repel gnomes," Ron grumbled.

"Why would they do that?" Harry asked, smiling. "I think it's a fun game!"

"You would think that's fun…" Ron responded and then mumbled something about traitors that liked work.

Molly set out sandwiches and everyone devoured at least two of them. Near the end of the meal, Arthur clapped his hands together and said, "Well, we've got an old snitch, quaffle, and a bludger – who wants to play?"

Everyone cheered in anticipation except Percy and Hermione. The teams were quickly divided with Harry, Ron, and Fred on one team and Ginny, George, and Hermione, who hadn't escaped quickly enough, on the other team. Harry and Ginny acted as both seekers and chasers while Ron and Hermione acted as keepers. The twins acted as the beaters for their respective teams.

Percy sat on the grass with a book and, though his job was supposed to be to keep score, he was obviously more involved in whatever boring text he was reading. Everything moved very quickly above him as the quaffle was passed to and fro and the snitch sped wildly about.

Fred and George were keeping the bludger away from their team members until Fred suddenly kicked it back at George instead of Ginny, who he probably should have aimed it at. It didn't even occur to Fred that George might think he'd done it intentionally. He didn't have much time to stop the bludger, however, or warn his twin. The bludger rushed past George, missing his head by a few inches. The other players and the supposed referee didn't notice the move.

"Oi!" George shouted, catching Fred's attention. The bludger swung back towards him and he batted it out swiftly to Fred, who swerved sharply to avoid it.

He almost succeeded – the bludger clipped Fred's leg and turned just enough that it was now heading straight for Hermione. George shouted out a warning but it didn't stop the bludger from connecting with Hermione's shoulder, causing her to scream in pain and make her way rather quickly towards the ground. In less than a second, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were helping her down to the ground where Percy had called for their parents to come out to.

George landed and darted over to Hermione. After seeing that she wasn't seriously injured and would likely be alright in a few hours, he spun around to meet his twin.

"This was your fault." George accused, pointing a finger in a pose that was reminiscent of their mother.

"It's not my fault that you're a bloody lousy shot," Fred replied, glaring at him. "Besides, I didn't mean to hit it towards you–"

"You were trying to hit me and you missed. Don't lie about it," George countered.

"Oh, I'm lying about aiming to hit someone? If I remember correctly, dear brother, it was _you _that hit the bludger that hurt Hermione, not me. But go ahead and give me another chance; I'm sure I'll do better on round two and nail you in the face," Fred said, sneering at George, feeling that the anger he felt now was perfectly warranted. The spark was now a raging flame in his mind.

"Yeah, well, we'll just see about that," George growled and started to stalk back towards the house. The two angry teens continued to bicker back and forth, drawing stares and questions from their family, to which they were oblivious.

"What, you think you could beat me?" Fred scoffed and walked a bit quicker towards the house. He wasn't sure what he would do, only aware that he was growing more and more furious by the second. George was following his twin and heard his father calling for them to stop but he ignored it – the adrenaline in him fueled his anger more than he thought it could.

"I don't think it, I know it," George replied challengingly. "It's a shame we're underage, or I'd prove it to you right now."

"Oh, is that all that's stopping you?" Fred turned abruptly and stared into his twin's face. "Why don't we try someplace a bit more fitting then?" With a sneaky looking smile he turned again to head towards the house.

George's face took on a puzzled expression as his twin continued into the Burrow. Behind him, he heard his mum calling out that they had better stop and get back there right now, but George felt too angry to heed his mother's words. Instead, he took off after Fred and followed him straight to the den, pausing a few feet away when Fred stopped in front of the fireplace.

"I'll be you can't catch me," Fred smirked again – George was really hating that expression and his wand arm twitched with the need to get that look off his twin's face. He vaguely wondering if the potion was somehow affecting him as well, but it couldn't be. Before he could get closer, Fred grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace.

"Fred, what are you–" but his question was cut off by Fred's cry of "The Leaky Cauldron!"

George swore and then reached up and grabbed a handful of floo powder as well. Just as he jumped into the fireplace, his mum ran in with a flabbergasted look on her face.

"Where on earth? George Weasley you put that powder back and get out of the fireplace NOW!" She screeched when she saw what George was about to do.

The powder still clenched in his hand, George threw an apologetic look at his mother and muttered, "Sorry mum," before following his brother through the floo network. The last thing he saw was his mum's furious face and steady wand pointing at the fireplace before a series of fireplaces flew by him.

**They really should have known better than to leave the floo powder in reach like that… **

**Okay, so I'm a bit worried that I've completely ruined this chapter. Let me know if the whole omniscient POV thing was hard to follow – I thought I'd try it out, since I didn't want to rewrite each chapter from both the twin's POV's. **

**In any event, thanks to the reviewer who encouraged me to put in Fred's POV – I hadn't planned on it, but I'm glad I did and I hope it explains more. PLEASE let me know if it needs more work.**

**To everyone else – thanks for reading and please leave me a note on what you think of it. I hope you're all having a great summer! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Five**

As fast as Molly had become over years of trying to put a stop to the twin's antics, the lengthy spell she needed to cast to close the floo was easily outdone by her son's quick use of the network. She nearly swore and felt the need to destroy something and then rushed to the fireplace to grab the floo powder, intent on finding her sons and making it so that they wouldn't leave their rooms for a month, school be damned!

Before she was able to grab a handful though, Arthur had come in and put a hand on her shoulder, asking her softly where the twins had gone. She seethed under his hand and Arthur felt a moment of pity for his twin sons when they would finally be within their mother's reach. He had heard the floo activating as he came inside and had ached with the desire to stun the twins and lock them in their room indefinitely.

"_Your_ sons," she growled out, making the word "your" sound almost lethal, "found it necessary to take off on an adventure to DIAGON ALLEY!" She screeched, and Arthur used all of his will power to not back away from her at that moment. The rest of the children, who had followed him inside, had already taken measures to hide behind furniture. Arthur made a point to stand in between them and his enraged wife, not wanting the unsuspecting teens to feel her misplaced wrath.

"Come now, Molly dear, we'll get it sorted out soon enough," he said, trying to placate her as best he could. "What destination did they use when they left?"

She still looked ready to kill and Arthur wasn't sure it would be safe for any of them if he let her see the boys just yet. He'd have to seriously talk to them before returning them to Molly, and even then, he would have to hold out hope that they'd live to see morning.

"George said 'The Leaky Cauldron,' and I can only assume that's where Fred went as well. You go get them and march them right back here!" She demanded and he already had his hands up in a way that was meant to calm someone, although it was almost like trying to give a friendly handshake to a dragon.

"I'll be back soon enough, dear," he moved to give her a light kiss, but thought better of it, choosing instead to hastily grab some floo powder and shout out his destination. The five teens that had been left behind with Molly made to go upstairs and Molly didn't stop them. None of them wanted to escalate the situation any further.

Molly held her wand in her fist after Arthur left and slowly counted to twenty in the attempt to regain control over her rightfully raging temper. Once she felt that she would not hex into oblivion the next person she spoke with, she called the other children downstairs, wanting to check Hermione's leg once again.

The five teens came down slowly; even Percy hesitated, having never seen Molly look so bent out of shape. She eyed them all and then spoke quietly, "I'm not angry at you lot, now get over here before I do become angry."

They hustled over to the living area where they could see the Weasley family clock, which Molly eyed with growing anger. The twins' hands kept moving around the clock, signaling that they were travelling, as did Arthur's, which meant that he was most likely searching for them through the floo. She sighed loudly and sat down, motioning for Hermione to sit next to her.

Quickly performing a simple diagnostic spell that every mother of any number of boys needed to know, she found that Hermione only had a rather painful bruise and a slight cut that was easily mended. Molly summoned a bruise salve that she kept for such occasions and, while applying it to the quiet teenager, glanced once again at the clock.

Two of the hands had stopped.

The twins' hands had finally settled on "mortal peril," while Arthur's was still travelling. The five teens in the room with her froze at her startled gasp and followed her eyes to the clock. They watched in silence as Arthur's hand joined the twins' at "mortal peril" before one of the twin's hands suddenly began moving again. The group in the Burrow continued to stare in dreaded anticipation as the hand passed "home" and "school" and settled on "lost."

The teens in the Burrow shared worried glances, but none looked as distraught as Molly did. She stared at the clock in silence, looking like she was willing the "lost" twin's hand to move and growing more and more upset every second that it didn't.

* * *

><p>Arthur came to a stop at the Leaky Cauldron and poked his head out long enough to see that the twins weren't inside. Tom noticed him from behind the bar and called out to him.<p>

"Your boys haven't been playing with the floo, have they?" Tom said, smirking knowingly.

"Unfortunately, yes. Have they gone outside, do you know?" Arthur asked quickly, wanting to find the boys before they caused any more trouble for themselves than was absolutely necessary.

"The one almost caught the other but then they jumped right back into the floo, shouting out a destination in Hogsmead."

"Ah think it was tha' sweets shop, aye it must'a been," said one slightly inebriated customer. Arthur rolled his eyes ever so slightly but thanked them nonetheless, stepping back into the floo with a new destination.

He followed rumors of the twin's appearances from there to Honeydukes and then back to Diagon Alley's Flourish and Blotts, where he learned that the twins were not to be allowed back in anytime soon. Apparently they had upset several book stands which Arthur spent a few moments setting back to rights. Not only had they been trying to hex each other but they had disregarded anything and anyone around them. Arthur's pity for what his wife would do to them was slowly wearing off.

Just as he was about to ask where they had taken off to next, he heard an explosion happening a short ways away from the store. Arthur walked to the window of the store and stood watching the people on the street quickly move away from the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which was where the explosive sounds were coming from. An inner debate raged inside of him: go off and find his two wayward sons or go assist with what looked like a quickly growing battle occurring down the street.

The decision was made for him a moment later as a patronus in the form of a lynx, which he knew belonged to Kingsley Shacklebolt, flew in to inform him of possible Death Eater activity in Knockturn Alley. They had heard rumors of old Death Eaters causing trouble here and there and it looked like this one was a bit too close for comfort to Diagon Alley. He sighed and hoped that his two boys hadn't gotten too far ahead of him and that they would tire of this game soon. He hoped more than anything that the two would hear of what was happening and return home, but he would soon find that his hopes were in vain.

* * *

><p>Fred was doing his best to lead George on a wild goose chase, or "wild Weasley chase" as they sometimes called events such as this, but George was determined to give as good as he got. They had held "wild Weasley chases" in Hogwarts many times, usually with Lee chasing the twins. Unlike those events, this one wasn't planned or agreed upon, and Fred really seemed to be trying to lose George. To his benefit, however, George could somewhat anticipate the places his brother would go and wasn't surprised when he shouted out the destinations he did.<p>

He matched his twin pace for pace when they arrived at a new store or, in one case, the ministry of magic (that visit didn't last long at all). They spent all of a minute at most at each location – long enough to fire off a few hexes, none of which hit the other boy, and then they jumped back into the floo. George felt slightly guilty about the damage they were causing, but the adrenaline pumping through him was overriding any other forms of common sense.

Each time they reached a new destination, the two leapt out of the floo with the intent to stop the other, or in Fred's case, prevent George from following. George wanted nothing more than to stun his brother and tie him up, but none of his spells hit. He knew they were evenly matched and that a win for either of them would only come if someone else were to intervene. George had been hoping that one of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley or Hogsmead, or even a ministry official, would be irritated enough to put a stop to their race.

At one point, Fred had shouted out "Honeydukes!" and disappeared in a swirl of green. George had jumped in right after him, hastily apologizing to the shopkeeper in the store they were just in before the green flames swept him away as well.

While George was hoping for both of them to stop, Fred was getting more and more frantic at the fact that he couldn't get away from George. He'd felt like he had no control over jumping into the floo back in the Burrow, and with each step he took, he felt more of his control slip away. It was almost as if that potion was more in control of the situation than he was, and Fred was worried that he wouldn't be able to stop this with George nearby.

Fred stepped out and immediately turned to where George was appearing, pointing his wand and shouting, "Impedimenta!"

George side-stepped it and lashed back, shouting "Expelliarmus!" Fred easily deflected it and George let his irritation show, "Damnit Fred, will you put a stop to this already!"

Fred wasn't able to hold the words back, but even so, what came out was the truth. "Stop following me and it'll be over and done with in seconds! Aguamenti!" With that, a jet of water shot towards George and the teen jumped to avoid getting wet.

"Stop this at once!" One of the Honeydukes employees demanded from a few feet away.

Fred groaned and raised his wand into the air with a loud call of "Avis," which summoned a large flock of birds within the building. He followed it up by pointing his wand at George and calling out "Oppugno," which directed the flock towards his twin.

George angrily muttered "depulso" at the birds to get rid of them as his twin jumped back into the floo. Quickly, George threw an "immobulus" spell to slow him down and then darted after, once again throwing apologetic looks over his shoulder to the clerk who was taking cover a few yards away.

Before Fred shouted out his next destination, George found himself wishing with all his might that his twin would head home or just give it up. It was obvious that the clerks in the stores they had run through weren't going to be any help, and no one else seemed keen to intervene. Still, George hoped that someone would come and put a stop to it before something truly regrettable happened.

Fred felt his control over the potion's effects slipping even faster as he jumped into the floo. A phrase, a name, a terrible conjunction of words that would surely spell trouble was fighting to escape him and though he tried desperately to contain it, the words were not to be tamed. Fred looked at his twin and caught the expression of disbelief on George's face as Fred called out his next destination.

"Borgin and Burkes!" His shaky but clear voice rang out through that portion of the store.

Disbelief wasn't the right word to describe what George felt when Fred called out the name of _that place_. The worst part, he knew, was that there was nothing he could do to stop Fred as the green flames began to sweep him away. George knew instantly that this little chase had been taken too far when Fred jumped into the floo and shouted out that location. Not only would their parents – both parents, mind you – kill them, but they could seriously piss off the residents of Knockturn Alley by jumping out of fireplaces hexing each other.

Despite his mother's stern voice yelling from deep within his conscience, George quickly jumped into the floo and followed his twin, proceeding to grab Fred's arm as soon as they reached the dark store. "Fred, what are you thinking?" he whispered urgently. "We can't keep doing this, especially not here!"

Fred cringed and clenched his eyes shut before grinding out, "Get away." Fred pulled from George's grasp and fired off a stinging hex which George shielded himself from. It was at that moment that George realized that Fred was trying to stop this in the only way that seemed to make sense at the moment. A large part of his anger dissipated entirely as he realized that Fred was running so as to avoid hurting other people again. Not for the first time in the last few days did George wonder just was that potion's effects were. Knowing that he had no time with which to spend on that topic, he considered letting Fred get away so that he could calm himself and regain what control he could. George immediately dashed that option off the list as he wasn't about to leave his twin in this state in the middle of Knockturn Alley.

While George was distracted with his revelations, Fred ran through the store to the doors which led to the Alley, firing off a couple spells as he did so. One of them knocked over something that looked like it might have been either very valuable or incredibly worthless, and not a second later, Mr. Borgin made his presence known.

"Who the _hell_ is rampaging through my shop!" He followed them through the store, cursing all the way while Fred darted ahead of them. George nearly had a heart attack – did his twin have a death wish? But no, he reminded himself, this wasn't his twin acting. This was the work of that potion, and somehow it had affected Fred, or at least he desperately hoped that was the case.

George bolted ahead of Mr. Borgin and grabbed his twin's sleeve just as they reached the door. Right at that moment, however, Mr. Borgin had decided to use other measures than shouting to stop them. With an enraged shout of "Reducto!" an intense blasting curse shattered the doorframe just to the right of them, effectively throwing them out into the street. The explosive sound echoed through the Alley and turned the heads of everyone present.

Mr. Borgin appeared out of the smoke, just like one of those muggle movie stars might emerge from what surely should have been a fatal explosion, and he was brandishing his wand in a way that declared his intent: he wanted to kill whomever was responsible for causing such a mess in his shop. George glanced to his left to where Fred was also frozen by the sight of the angry store owner, and thanked Merlin that he was no longer firing off spells at anything and anyone. George felt a great bit of relief as Fred stood closer to him so that they seemed united, not as though they had just been dueling it out in over ten different locations over the last twenty minutes.

The twins quickly stood as one and started to back away from Mr. Borgin, lifting their hands in a way that showed that they didn't want to cause any more problems.

"Ah, sorry about that, sir," Fred said, trying to sound as apologetic as he could and look it, too. The shock from the older man's blasting curse had given him the chance he needed to regain a bit of footing in the fight to not continue acting like an idiot.

"We never meant to end up here, you see," George tried to carry on, but the look on Mr. Borgin's face silenced him immediately.

Once again, they tried to back away when they were stopped, each with one hand on a shoulder. The boys turned abruptly to see Lucius Malfoy of all people standing just behind them with an evil smirk on his face. George flinched but could hardly move with the vice-like grip that Malfoy Sr. had on his shoulder.

"My, my, Mr. Borgin, it seems that two of your guests have been quite rude…" Malfoy practically purred with pleasure, and the rest of the crowd seemed to edge closer in anticipation while the two boys grew smaller by the second. "Allow me to assist in teaching these worthless little blood traitors," at this his grip tightened even more, "some of the reasons why acting with more propriety and class would benefit them."

Mr. Borgin smirked and replied, "By all means, Mr. Malfoy, be my guest." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the two Weasleys were thrown to the ground and a myriad of hexes and curses began flying through the air.

The two boys tried their utmost to defend themselves, and for having just finished their fifth year, they were doing better than expected. Unfortunately, they were no match for the highly skilled wizards that were bearing down on them. It only took a matter of moments for several cutting, burning, and bone-breaking curses the fly through their flimsy shields.

Either twin was focused solely on watching out for the other – it was as if their argument that morning had never occurred and that, in light of current danger, the potion was reacting more strongly to a greater threat. When one of the twins received a cutting curse to the shoulder, the other growled in anger and threw back the strongest hex he knew. When that one encountered a nasty burning curse in the leg, the other fired off a quick succession of small hexes in the hope of buying them some time.

The battle, if a ten-on-two fight could be called such, continued on for perhaps two minutes, although to the twins it felt like two hours. Both were now injured and having trouble breathing, either because of the stress or from an injury. A brief call of "Aurors! Aurors are coming!" gave them a burst of energy which they used to the fullest in the hopes that help would arrive soon.

Just before the aurors made their appearance, a strong blasting curse threw the twins apart, one landing closer to the entrance to Diagon Alley and the other landing almost at the feet of Malfoy Sr., who looked far too pleased with himself. Seeing that the time to leave was fast approaching, Lucius knelt down, sneered at the twin farther from him and clutched the shoulder of the one at his feet. Staring in horror, the twin farther away could only watch as the dark wizard apparated away with his brother.

At that moment, something broke inside the twin that remained in Knockturn Alley. He completely forgot the English language as he tried to formulate words to express his shock and denial. He stared at the place where he'd last seen his other half, seeing nothing else and feeling nothing but a sudden and gut-wrenching loss.

He barely registered the men and women cloaked in red running past him and firing off spells at the ones that he'd been trying to defend himself from only moments before. One of the newcomers knelt before him and was speaking to him, but he didn't hear or understand what the man was saying.

Feeling himself being shaken, he tried to focus on the man in front of him – red hair, a few freckles, and familiar blue eyes – Dad, he thought wearily. He'd never felt so tired in all his life, and he suddenly found his eyes drooping shut. His father's voice rang out frantically for him to open his eyes and, though he tried, he couldn't fight off the comfort that he knew sleep would provide.

**Oops… mwa ha ha! I seriously need to stop taking my anger out on those two! They don't deserve it! lol Lucy, you have to admit, this will make it harder for them to fight anymore… although I don't think this is what you had in mind ;)**

**In any event, while I try not to beg, PLEASE leave a note describing the lameness of my story from 1 to 10 – 1 being "oh my goodness just go get another latte and leave the twins alone" and 10 being "yeah I feel angry sometimes too (hehehehehe)." **

**I'll stop the lameness for now. Love ya k thankx bye! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Six**

The disorientation that always accompanied apparition spun around him, twisting his last look at his twin into a cyclone of color. Throughout the whole apparition experience, he felt a firm hand digging into his shoulder painfully. The shoulder and down along his back was warm and wet, and he knew it probably ached with pain as well, but he couldn't feel a single thing other than confusion at the images that swept rapidly around him.

His eyes shut of their own accord, wanting to deny for as long as possible what was happening. The world spun around him, for longer than any previous apparition trip he'd ever been a part of, and he sucked in a ragged breath through the rush of movement that was flying around him and his abductor.

Almost as suddenly as the apparition had begun, his feet hit the ground and he stopped spinning. He felt himself tilt at an angle despite the grip on his shoulder since, even though they'd stopped, his mind was still spinning to keep up. The teen kept his eyes closed in the vain hope that when he next opened them, he would find himself in front of the Burrow. The more he unseeingly observed, however, the more dread crept over him, telling him that he was nowhere near the home he'd lived in all his life.

There was no soft grass from the lawn in front of the Burrow to welcome him. No, instead he found that beneath his feet was a floor that creaked and moved ever so slightly – perhaps it was a hardwood floor that had began to decay in age. His right shoe scuffed it a bit and he realized that it was probably covered in dust amongst other things.

The next thing he realized was the smell of the place, which matched his theory about the floor perfectly. Instead of the airy smell of the country near his family's home or the scent of his mum's baking, the area smelled of dust and stale air, similar to one of the old unused classrooms at Hogwarts. Unlike the classroom that he'd often visited with his twin, however, this room set the hair on his neck on edge.

His mind flitted back to a memory of wandering through the Forbidden Forest with his brother and Lee Jordan. The three of them had wandered on an old path for a short ways, at least long enough to no longer be able to see the lights of the castle. After a bit of wandering, one of their wands shone upon a figure in the distance – a very tall, slim figure whose face was white but otherwise unidentifiable. Thinking that the person might be a student (though they'd never seen a student so tall), they had called out to the stranger. There was no reply, but the three boys shared a look that conveyed the fact that each of them felt those nervous hairs rising on their necks. Without saying a word, they had all cancelled the light from their wands and hastened back to the castle, checking periodically for the mysterious figure. Every time they checked, the tall stranger appeared to get closer, until the boys were running full tilt from the forest.

The boys never did discover who or what the mysterious figure had been. Even so, the fear that had filled him that night was nothing compared to what he felt just by standing blindly in this room. His senses were at war with each other. Half wanted to open his eyes and see what was around him for what it was, and the other half wanted to remain in sweet ignorance for as long as possible. The choice was made for him as several voices rose above the battles in his mind.

"My lord, I've brought you some company," a deep voice uttered and he pinned it as not only belonging to the one gripping his shoulder but to none other than Lucius Malfoy. There was no forgetting the kind of voice he had – it was one that could, if the user felt so inclined (as Lucius Malfoy often did), make the richest of men feel like the trash that clogged the street drains in London.

A rasping voice rose up to say, "How nice it was of you to stop in…" The voice lingered, giving the guise of a polite prompting for the teen to introduce himself. Eyes remaining shut, he clenched his fists in refusal. Though he would have told anyone that it was to defy those around him, the truth was that the voice he'd just heard had nearly made those hairs on his neck bolt for cover.

He felt a wand jab into his throat and, surprised by the action, opened his eyes widely and took in the sight around him. There was a chair that looked as worn as everything else in the room which, just as he'd guessed, was covered in dust. The minute particles floated through the air to settle on new objects and while he'd never much cared for the travels of a bit of dust, he found himself wishing it was all he had to worry about.

"The dark lord asked you a question," Malfoy's voice growled from behind him. The wand at his neck dug in a bit deeper and he felt a constant sting coming from it, warning him to speak now or be forced to speak later.

The teen glared resolutely at the chair in front of him and more closely examined the figure upon it. It… wasn't a child but… His mind couldn't comprehend it. Everything was foggy and he couldn't form the words to express what the being in front of him was. Again, it spoke to him, but the words washed right over him. Vaguely, he realized that a slowly growing feeling of fear was causing him to freeze, but he still couldn't identify why he should be afraid just yet. He shook his head slightly to dispel the confusion, but it only made the room continue to tilt at an odd angle.

The rasping voice was heard once again, and the teen caught the words "Wormtail" and "find out" before he felt a curse hit him. The hand on his shoulder let go and he quickly fell to the floor from the most intense pain he'd ever felt in his life. Before that moment, all of his senses had seemed somehow dulled, but now it seemed as if every single nerve in his body was on fire. The colors that he'd only just begun to sort out blurred together once again in a swirl of pain until suddenly, the fire stopped.

A low moan escaped his lips and he was startled to learn how sore his throat was – had he even been screaming? Somehow, he knew he wouldn't be surprised if he had been. Two hands grasped at his shoulders, reminding him of the fire that had eaten away at the same spots moments before. He felt himself wince as he was dragged to his feet and addressed once again.

"My young guest," the raspy voice spoke again, albeit dangerously quiet this time. "It seems that you have had too much excitement for one day to even answer a simple question. Perhaps a good night's sleep would… help you some?"

The teen glared dully at the creature, still feeling the strange tingling along his spine, although he was unsure if it was from unease or from the pain he'd endured moments before. Distantly, he heard the creature commanding the one known as "Wormtail" to take him "someplace comfortable to stay for the night."

He felt himself being handed off to the other wizard and dragged down a hallway to another room. The door opened and they went down a set of stairs – or rather, the other wizard stepped down, while the teen stumbled along in his grasp. They apparently reached their destination, for the wizard opened a door with a flick of his wand and the exhausted teen found himself being flung to the floor.

Glancing up at the wizard before the door shut, the boy realized that he recognized the face of this man. This was the man who had posed as Ron's pet rat up until the end of the last school year. As the door slammed shut on him, effectively cutting off his only source of light, the true peril of his situation hit home. That man, Wormtail, only lived for two reasons: to continue his disgraceful existence by cheating others out of theirs and to serve the darkest wizard to reign in the last hundred years. Realizing that, he knew that the creature upstairs wasn't just anyone, but instead that very same dark wizard that shouldn't still be alive.

As the cold and dark of the room crept over his tired and sore body, the teen found himself feeling terribly alone. He couldn't remember a time before this when he had been so cold and trapped, nor could he fully understand at the moment why his twin wasn't with him. Every time he tried to think back on what happened, his thoughts were interrupted by the distant, quiet sound of water dripping.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

* * *

><p>Arthur had come upon the scene in Knockturn Alley moments after a team of Aurors had arrived. Spells, curses, and hexes were flying in every direction and he paused now and then to deflect or aim one at an opponent. The fight barely lasted two minutes as those who had stopped to watch the previous entertainment had slunk back to the shadows at the slightest hint of danger.<p>

As the crowd dispersed and the Aurors gathered together a few opponents that had failed to evade capture, Arthur glanced around to try and identify what had started the skirmish. His eyes almost passed it, but the shock of red hair belonging to one of his twin sons caught his eye and he found himself running over to his son. The boy was on his knees and staring at a spot across the Alley. Arthur followed his gaze, expecting to see his other son, but his eyes fell upon a few skittish travelers that were quickly moving away from the scene around them.

Arthur put his hand on his son's shoulder, noting with worry that the boy's arm was bleeding and that several other cuts were scattered about his person. He lightly shook the boy's shoulder to get his attention, but he got none.

He crouched down, blocking his son's line of sight and looked into his eyes. For a split second, Arthur wasn't sure if he was looking at Fred or George, but then he saw a familiar bruise from the boys' previous fight and knew it was George. The fact that the bruise was the only thing he could use to distinguish this boy apart from his twin stung Arthur briefly, for he usually was very good at determining which twin was which. He shook his head ever so slightly and leaned forward to see how badly George was hurt and where Fred had gone to.

"George, son, are you alright?" Arthur asked, but the boy remained unresponsive. "Son, did you catch up with Fred? Where is he?" After that question, Arthur let loose a refrain through his mind, thinking _'Say he's flooed back home, say he's flooed back home…'_

At the mention of Fred's name, George's eyes focused on his father's before starting to droop down in exhaustion. The last thing they needed was for him to fall asleep or pass out, so Arthur shook him slightly and tried to get him to speak. His efforts were in vain, however, as the boy slowly slumped over into his father's arms.

Not a second later, Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived at their side and began waving his wand over the teen to see how badly he was hurt. As he did this, he asked Arthur what had happened and why one of his boys was in Knockturn Alley.

"The twins were upset at each other and took off through the floo network, chasing each other through places both here and at Hogsmead," Arthur explained quietly, relief filling him as Kingsley's scans showed that George's injuries were bad, but not life-threatening. "I've no idea why they would have come here, no matter how upset they were – they both know better."

Kingsley was quiet for a moment before responding, "Apparently, they angered old Mr. Borgin enough for him to chase them out here. That's all I know for certain at the moment, though." He paused, lowered his wand. "Arthur, where is your other boy…"

"Fred – I don't know…" Arthur answered. His mind was racing with imagining a number of possibilities that could have been the result of angering anyone in Knockturn Alley. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became at himself for arriving too late to stop the boys.

"We haven't seen any trace of him, although we're heard rumors that some of those involved in the fight may have apparated away just before our arrival. If that's the case and they took him with them," at this, Arthur cringed, "then there's no telling where he is or what state he's in."

Arthur tried to respond to let the auror, who he highly respected, that he understood what he was saying, but his voice froze up and only a small croak made it out.

Kingsley bowed his head, trying to imagine how hard this must be for the other man, and said, "Take your son to St. Mungos and let us get as much information as we can. As soon as we find anything out, I'll be by to let you know."

Taking as deep a breath as he could, Arthur stood with his son in his arms and disapparated away to St. Mungos. A healer came to see him quickly and within moments he found himself sitting in a chair and waiting to hear news. His mind was raging over going back to the Alley and personally looking for Fred and demanding to see George and know if he was going to be okay or not. While he was waiting, an assistant came and asked him if he needed to contact anyone, and he kicked himself for not remembering that Molly would want to know what had happened.

His hands were shaking as he opened the floo connection to the Burrow and let Molly know where he was. He didn't get a chance to explain why he was at the hospital before Molly was coming through the floo with the other five children trailing after her.

"Where are they and when can I see them so I can give them a real reason for needing a hospital?" Molly screeched at Arthur the moment she saw him. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Percy all remained quiet and off to the side, not wanting to bring their mother's latest bout of wrath upon themselves.

Arthur put a hand on his wife's arm to try and calm her, but he removed it when he saw that it had the opposite effect. He suddenly wished that Kingsley were here to explain the situation rather than him. Speaking in a low voice, he explained, "The boys were chasing each other through the floo networks – I chased them through the Leaky Cauldron, Honeydukes, and back to Diagon Alley… I couldn't…" he paused for a moment to regain his control, which was quickly falling to pieces.

Molly's expression turned from furious to one of confusion at why he seemed so upset. She thought back to the Weasley clock and the hand that was probably still stuck on "lost." She'd glanced at it a few moments before Arthur had flooed to inform her where he was, but she had desperately hoped that the two boys were here with their father, although the longer it took Arthur to tell her what happened, the more dread she felt about their situation.

Arthur began to speak again and she reached out to steady him as he said, "They somehow ended up at Borgin and Burkes and angered Mr. Borgin. A fight broke out in the Alley and… I got there a minute later – the aurors had already arrived, but… George is here; he's hurt, but here." Arthur looked into his wife's face and said what she already knew to be true, "We've no idea where Fred is."

Behind her, the other five children stared at him with wide eyes before Percy leaned forward to say, "Did he take off somewhere? Are there people looking–"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt and his team of aurors are looking everywhere and he said that if he finds anything useful, that he'll let me know," Arthur responded quietly.

Molly bit her lip lightly to keep the warring emotions from escaping her. She knew that this was no time to give into the stress and worry, so she quietly asked, "How is George? Have you talked to him?"

He shook his head a bit and said, "I tried to talk to him back in the Alley, but he barely registered that I was even there. I know he's injured, and as far as Kingsley and I were able to determine, he should be okay." The potential of how that sentence could be made false hung heavy in the air around them and they all remained silent after that.

Almost as if the healers had heard their conversation and unspoken need to see George, a young man came out to meet them. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I'm Healer Hagen – I've been working and will continue to work with your son."

"Can we see him?" Molly asked, and she looked the part of a mother bent on seeing her child as soon as possible. Healer Hagen nodded, understanding her need, and motioned for them to follow him through a hallway.

"He was resting when I left, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's awake by now. His injuries were fairly minor, to be honest – a few cuts and a burn which were easily mended. He's not responded to any questions I've asked him though," Healer Hagen commented.

"He's not said anything about his twin?" Arthur asked discreetly as they stopped in front of a door. The healer shook his head and opened the door, gesturing for them to go in if they wished.

As soon as Molly saw her son, she was at his side asking him how he felt and if he needed anything. All of her previous anger had long since melted away when she discovered the danger that her boys had been in and that one of them was probably still in.

George didn't respond to her except to look at her, but even then, his expression remained the same. He looked lost, and everyone in the room knew why.

Arthur sat in a chair next to George's bed and waited a moment before asking with as calm a voice as he could manage, "George? Can you tell us what happened? How did you end up in Knockturn Alley?" At that last question, the other teens in the room made noises of surprise, for they too knew the many reasons why not to venture into Knockturn Alley.

"Fr-Fred… I just followed… I'm sorry… Couldn't stop…," George whispered faintly, his expression turning to hopelessness as he thought back on the events that occurred in the Alley. He was looking everywhere except at his parents and the other five teenagers, and Arthur looked to them and motioned for them to leave for a moment. He expected them to argue about it, but they quietly followed Percy from the room, seeming to understand that this wasn't the time for such behavior.

Molly watched quietly, holding onto George's hand as Arthur continued to question his son. He desperately wanted to reassure George that everything would be okay, but he knew that it wouldn't be until Fred was back with them. For that to happen, Arthur knew that these painful questions needed to be asked. "What happened in the Alley?"

George looked almost like he would be sick, but he closed his eyes with a firm resolve to let them know what happened and whispered, "Mr. Borgin chased us through his shop and finally blasted us out the door. Mr. Malfoy was there and he stopped us before we could leave…" George opened his eyes again and gripped his mum's hand a bit tighter. He didn't notice his father's expression turn to one of anger at the name he had used.

"Did Malfoy – Did he hurt you?" Arthur asked, trying to reign in his anger at his fellow ministry worker and long-time enemy.

George glared at the blankets on the bed and replied quietly, "He started the fight and threw us in the middle of it. It didn't last long – the aurors were pretty quick in coming after that blasting curse that Mr. Borgin used."

Arthur's forehead creased a bit as he thought back to that moment; he had just been running into the Alley and the aurors had already been there. So where was Fred?

Molly beat him to it and asked George, "What about your brother? Where's Fred, sweetie?"

George continued to glare at the bed sheets for a moment before explaining, "We were separated briefly and just before the aurors got there…" He trailed off a bit and Arthur was worried that he wouldn't finish. George drew in a breath, knowing that his father needed to know so that they could have some hope of finding Fred. He met his dad's eyes and stated, "I saw him – Malfoy grabbed him–"

Arthur growled and stood up, pacing fiercely in the small room. "Lucius Malfoy? Did they go down the alley or–"

"He disapparated with him," George said, shutting his eyes tightly. "Mum, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him – he just kept jumping into floos and I didn't know what to do when he said 'Borgin and Burkes,' so I just followed… I couldn't…" The words were pouring out of him as he tried to find some way to explain to his mum that one of her sons was lost because of his and Fred's actions. He doubted the words were having the desired effect though, because he was nowhere near convinced that he'd done everything he could to stop what had happened earlier.

Arthur sat next to his son again, calming down enough so that George wouldn't think his father was angry at him. Molly let a few tears loose and held George to her to prevent him from speaking any further. At this point, neither parent blamed him, or even Fred, for what had happened. They just wanted to make it right and, at the moment, none of them knew how to right this wrong.

A moment later, they were interrupted by a knock at the door to which Arthur called for whomever it was to come in. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped inside and nodded politely at Molly before turning to face Arthur.

"We've talked to several witnesses and it seems that Lucius Malfoy disapparated with the other boy," the auror said, looking at Arthur with a questioning glance, silently asking if he wanted to join them in a search.

Molly glanced at her husband and nodded. The second she did, Arthur was on his feet with his wand out and following Kingsley out the door. The distraught mother turned to her son and whispered, "He'll find Fred – he will; we just have to wait."

George continued to stare out in front of him, first at the bed sheets and then at the door through which his father had left. He wanted to hope that his mother's words were true, and that his dad would bring Fred back soon, but he couldn't dispel the growing feeling of despair that was echoing through his mind.

**Sorry Lucy… it wasn't George, but don't worry, he'll get his share of drama and adventure in a while :)**

**THANK YOU to everyone that has reviewed! I especially love the ratings – a couple of your reviews made me laugh and do a happy dance They really keep me going and push me to update. I am having a lot of stress lately, from getting a job, hassling recruiters, searching for apartments, you name it! I had to run off to Starbucks today so that I could have time to keep hacking this story to pieces. **

**Anyways, keep on letting me know what you think and what you'd like to see! I love getting ideas to use and the feedback is WONDERFUL whether it's good or bad. I love to hear what people think! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**THANK YOU Lucy and "teamgredandforge" – your reviews are amazing! Thank you sooo much!**

**Anonymous reviewer who's reading my story in lieu of the 6****th**** book… I'm glad you like my story so much! I hope you also enjoy the 6****th**** book – don't read ahead like I did. I got the book at midnight the day it came out and was sooo tired that I thought I'd just flip to the back to see who died and who lived… it was another month until I actually brought up the will-power to finish reading… I did NOT make that mistake again! : ) **

**Chapter Seven**

Arthur left George's room at a fast pace as he followed Kingsley, wanting to find Malfoy and beat him to a pulp for endangering one of his children. He hadn't made it five feet before he was stopped by his third eldest.

"Dad, what's going on? Do you know where Fred is?" Percy asked, standing and making as if to follow the two adults.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the gesture helping to convey his stress over the situation. "We don't know where he is, but we're pretty certain Lucius Malfoy might." The five teens before him exchanged knowing glances before turning their attention back to him. "I want you kids to stay here and make sure your mother doesn't get too worked up. I'll try to be back soon." He tried to give them an encouraging smile, but it came out as a painful looking grimace due to his worry over Fred.

He'd hardly started to turn around when Percy stepped forward again and said boldly, "I want to come with you. I'm of age and I can help–"

"Percy, just stay here and make sure–"

"What use am I going to be here? Just let me come and help find my brother," Percy demanded, holding his ground. Arthur was slightly surprised to see how intent Percy was on helping to find Fred. Anyone outside the family – and even some in the family – would have a hard time understanding why Percy would, after all the twins put him through, want to help them.

Arthur sighed and considered what Percy was asking. Both Arthur and Molly had realized that Percy was growing more and more distant from their family every day. His attachment to the Ministry, as well as his penchant to look down his nose at his family, only spelled trouble from his parent's perspective. It was a fluke that the boy was even home during this whole debacle, for they all knew he'd been trying to get as far ahead at the Ministry as he could.

Arthur knew, even before Kingsley turned around to have his say, that Percy should come and help. He didn't want any more children to be in danger, but the expression on Percy's face spoke volumes about his desire to help. Arthur knew that if he shut Percy out now and told him he couldn't help, then he could be risking the very tenuous relationship that they currently shared.

Kingsley stopped next to where Arthur was stood in front of Percy and said, "As long as you're agreeable, Arthur, I'd be fine with him helping to search through the Alley, as long as he has an auror or two with him. The more help we have, the better." He then addressed Percy directly, "But you won't be coming to the Malfoy estate, no matter how much you argue."

Arthur nodded and then said, "You will do exactly as you're told and no more. The rest of you _will _stay here, like it or not." At that last comment, the other teens groaned lightly but otherwise put up no further argument, knowing that it would be in vain.

Percy thanked Kingsley and followed him and his father down the hallway while the rest of the group lingered around George's door. Ron took to pacing while Hermione sat on a bench next to Ginny. Harry looked as if he felt completely out of place and stood next to the wall, watching his best friend pace back and forth.

"Why would they be going to bloody _Malfoy's_ place?" Ron asked, sneering in disdain at the other family's name.

"Perhaps he has something to do with Fred's disappearance," Hermione suggested. None of them had any real evidence to go by, since they hadn't heard George's testimony of the events that occurred in Knockturn Alley earlier.

Ginny was fuming in her seat, although she was careful not to show it. How on earth could her twin brothers have done something so stupid? Why would they end up in Knockturn Alley in the first place? She shot up and pushed open the door to George's room. Inside, she saw her mother holding George, whose eyes moved to meet her angry ones. He looked spent, as if he didn't have the energy to figure out how to feel about what had happened.

The youngest Weasley didn't care to consider it though. She marched towards the bed while starting in on her brother, "How could you two be so _stupid_ to do this?" She hissed at him, glaring despite the reproving look her mother was giving her and continued, "You both could have been killed going in there and… and–" she had been about to name the possibility that Fred might not come back, but her throat closed up on her. George had clenched his eyes shut and looked pained at the near-mention of such a possibility.

Ginny froze and then immediately regretted speaking her mind – damn her temper! – and then dashed over to George's side, apologizing over and over for what she said. He looked like he could cry if he would let himself, and the look he now bore was one that she was never prepared to see on one of the twin's faces.

Molly didn't have the heart to reprimand Ginny's outburst, knowing that the girl was upset by what had happened. She did her best to be there for her children as the other three came in, looking just as upset as George did. When Percy failed to come in, she questioned them on his whereabouts, hating the fear that was seeping into her so easily since the twins had taken off from the Burrow earlier that day.

Hermione answered her, explaining that Percy had gone with Kingsley and his father to help look for Fred. Molly nodded in approval despite her worry that another child had gone out to face potential danger. She would never get used to the fact that her kids were growing up and could now make their own decisions.

She didn't notice Harry, Hermione, and Ron share a meaningful look, and over Ginny's crying, she was only vaguely aware that she had nodded her permission for them to leave the room.

* * *

><p>Harry shut the door quietly behind him as he followed Ron and Hermione into the hallway. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of all that had happened. He'd been shocked when the twins had started fighting at the Burrow, and when they took off through the floo, no one had seemed to know what to do. They had all assumed that Mr. Weasley would return with the two boys at some point, but to hear that one was injured and that the other was missing... Harry wasn't sure how he felt.<p>

He shook his head. He knew how he felt; he felt upset, angry, and distraught just like the rest of the group. What he wasn't sure about was how he was _supposed _to feel. After all, this was Ron's family, not his own.

Almost as if she'd sensed his thoughts, Hermione leaned over and asked, "Harry, are you okay?"

His head snapped up and he nodded while saying quietly, "Yeah, of course I am." To himself, he thought that she should be asking Ron the same question.

Ron had been pacing back and forth along the hallway, appearing to be deep in thought. He stopped suddenly and looked up at them with a very determined expression on his face. "We need to make a plan," he stated.

Hermione's brows scrunched together for a moment before she replied, "A plan for what? What can we possibly do?"

"We need paper," Ron said.

"I don't have –" Hermione started to say.

"The nurses probably have paper," Ron said, waving his hand towards the nursing station. He looked like he was getting frustrated with Hermione, and she huffed loudly and walked off to get paper.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair before saying, "Ron, she's right. We can't really do much right –"

"Well we have to do something!" Ron half-shouted back at him. It was the desperate sound to Ron's voice that made Harry realize that his friend needed to do this, whether it would be useful or not.

Harry nodded and held his hands up in a way that resembled a peaceful gesture, and he quietly responded, "Okay, we'll make a plan and figure out something that we can do to help." Harry watched as Ron nodded, staring intently at the floor. He thought of Hermione and added, "You may want to apologize to Hermione or at least be nicer to her. She looked a bit upset when you snapped at her."

Ron grimaced and mumbled something that Harry couldn't make out. Harry leaned forward and asked what he said, but he didn't get time for a response as Hermione came back with paper, a quill, and a small bottle of ink.

She didn't say a word as she sat on the floor and set up the quill so she could write. Ron sat down next to her and mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like "sorry" and "didn't mean to." Hermione smiled at him briefly and then straightened up and motioned for Harry to join them on the floor.

As he sat down, she asked, "Well, what kind of ideas can we think of that don't involve the use of magic, travel, or anything illegal?"

Ron leaned forward and said, "Do you remember when we overheard Mum talking with Fred and George in the kitchen?" They had spied on the twins and Mrs. Weasley after hearing that the twins were arguing again, and they also heard what the three had talked about. Harry and Hermione nodded to Ron, so he continued, "They kept talking about that potion and how it might be affecting Fred – what if it is?"

Hermione nodded and brushed the feather of the quill against her chin. "I think it is. There's no way he would act like that without something else influencing him. The question is what exactly was put in the potion that would cause something like this to happen."

"Maybe George has it written down or just remembers?" Harry suggested. "We could always ask him about it and then help Hermione research it." He knew it was serious when Ron didn't even flinch at the word "research."

Ron pointed at the paper and directed, "Mum'll be pretty upset about this, so she'll need one of her kids to be around her."

"Okay," Harry said, "Ginny can be around her to –"

Hermione shook her head, "Ginny's too upset about this to be much comfort, I would think…"

Ron looked at Harry and stated, "You'll stay with her and Hermione and I can go talk to George."

Harry looked a bit confused and responded, "But I'm not one of her kids – it'd be better if –"

"Yes you are," Ron countered, looking at his friend. "She adopted you the second she saw you, so therefore, you're her kid too."

Harry smiled slightly and looked down to watch Hermione write down what Ron had said. Harry wasn't sure if Ron knew how much that meant to him, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He shook his head lightly at the thought that Ron, who could be so oblivious sometimes, often had the ability to say just the right things from time to time, whether he was aware of it or not.

The three teens discussed a few more ideas, such as how they would research the potion, what they would do with the information, and when they would do all of it. Harry had offered that they owl Sirius for help with research and general advice. Hermione had suggested, much to the disgust of Harry and Ron, that they owl Professor Snape as well. None of them wanted to go that far, but none of them needed to voice the fact that they'd do anything to help get Fred back.

* * *

><p>Arthur, Kingsley, and three other aurors left after dropping Percy off with an unusual-looking auror named Tonks, apparating to the main gate of Malfoy Manor. The five looked around to make sure that no one else was hiding nearby (one could never be too careful) before walking closer to the gate so that it could sense them. Arthur felt his blood boil at the sight of the majestic house and its expansive gardens and lawns that spanned the property. He wished, if only for a moment, to destroy all of the vain things that made Lucius think he was entitled to sneer upon Arthur's family.<p>

The gate, which was tall and imposing while still looking as regal as ever, was set up to inform the residents of the manor of the identities of anyone who wished to visit them. Anyone that was not welcome would be told so through the disembodied voice of one of the Malfoys or possibly one of their house elves. It appeared that one of the Malfoy house elves had taken to responding during their visit, as the high-pitched voice didn't resemble that of any of the Malfoys. Several of the aurors outside looked like they had heard that particular disembodied voice a number of times before.

Instead of dismissing them, however, the gate opened in an invitation for them to come to the doors of the manor. The walk up would have been pleasant, due to the beautifully done landscaping, had not Arthur been racking his brains with a number of curses he would like to use upon Lucius. Kingsley seemed to sense the other man's anger and put a hand on his arm to warn him not to act on his emotions. Arthur tried and slightly succeeded at calming himself before they arrived in front of the massive door leading into Malfoy Manor.

Kingsley stepped forward and knocked three times on the door and stepped back, waiting patiently. Arthur held his wand in a clenched fist and had to physically restrain from blasting the door open. He had never gotten on well with Lucius and, though he didn't normally feel the need to hurt the other man, the idea that he had possibly harmed one of Arthur's children more than motivated the angry Weasley to get some form of revenge.

After a long moment's wait, the door opened to reveal Narcissa Malfoy, dressed in an impressively elegant gown of green and silver. The appearance of her outfit, both beautiful and radiant, was negated by the look on her face. She truly looked as if a filthy alley cat had crept upon her property with a dead mouse in its mouth as a door gift.

"Good afternoon, Auror Shacklebolt and, well, if it isn't Arthur Weasley. We certainly weren't expecting you. What is the meaning of your visit?" She asked, not even trying to hide what she thought of them from the tone of her voice. Her head even tilted further back so that she could more effectively look down her nose at them, and Arthur in particular.

Arthur moved to make a remark, but Kingsley put a well-meaning hand on his arm once again. The auror stepped a bit closer to Narcissa and asked, "Mrs. Malfoy, we were wondering if we might speak with your husband. There has been a situation near Diagon Alley today, and his name was brought up by several people. We wish to hear what he has to say on the matter rather than hearing it from everyone but him." Arthur had to hand it to the auror – he certainly made it sound like they weren't here to question Lucius like a suspect.

She regarded them for a moment before inclining her head slightly and saying, "If you'll follow me to the sitting room, my husband will join you momentarily."

The small group followed the haughty woman through the entranceway to a large and well-decorated area complete with a fireplace and picture window facing the grounds around the manor. As they took their seats, Narcissa called for a house elf to bring tea and then left to retrieve her husband.

While she was gone, Kingsley leaned towards Arthur and quietly advised, "Arthur, I know how badly you want to find out about Malfoy's involvement, but let us do the talking at first. If we set him off too soon than he may not give us any useful information."

Arthur nodded and tried to soften his glare that he'd been sending in the direction that Narcissa had left. A few minutes later, she returned with her husband and the small party stood to meet them. Lucius greeted the group politely and then sat down with his wife by his side.

"Narcissa tells me that you've heard my name being mentioned over some dispute in Diagon Alley. I'll thank you for coming to me before going behind my back, as many before you seem inclined to do," Lucius said, calmly picking up a cup of tea and bringing it to his lips. "How can I assist you in your search for information?"

"Have you heard about the skirmish that occurred in front of Borgin and Burkes today?" Kingsley questioned him.

Lucius nodded his head and said, "Yes, I was there for part of it, indeed."

Arthur felt his muscles tense with the desire to hex the man but reluctantly forced himself to wait for Kingsley to lead the conversation further.

"Can you describe to us what happened while you were there, please?" Kingsley asked. One of the other aurors took out a pad and paper and leaned forward in interest.

Lucius set his tea down and leaned back a bit before explaining, "I was actually about to enter Borgin and Burkes myself before the event you asked about occurred. I have been selling him a few antique items that my wife no longer desires to be laying around the house, you see."

It took everything Arthur had not to snort in derision at Lucius' fabrication. Everyone in the room knew why he'd really gone to Borgin and Burkes, but no one wanted to comment on it so that they could get to the more important issue concerning the twins.

Kingsley had already nodded and then motioned for the man to continue. Arthur was already itching to leap up and rage at the man to explain where his son was. Though he tried not to let his anger show on his face, he knew that it probably was. The warning looks from Kingsley were enough to tell him that.

Lucius was either oblivious to Arthur's thoughts or chose to ignore the hateful glare on the man's face. "Yes, well, just before I entered the establishment, a blasting curse erupted from inside and out came two young boys. They looked like they might have been yours, Arthur. Were they?"

Before Arthur could respond to the question, Kingsley cut in and explained, "Yes, in fact, those boys were his twin sons. Can you tell us what happened next?"

The look on Lucius' face clearly stated that he was enjoying the battle that Arthur was fighting with himself. He took his time in responding and, after having another sip of tea, he went on to say, "Well, the two boys had obviously upset Mr. Borgin, most likely with some of their little pranks. I've heard that they're quite the trouble-makers at school."

"That may be so," Kingsley responded tersely, no longer caring to appear altogether accepting of what Malfoy had to say. "But I would ask that you please stick to telling us what happened and not what you think occurred."

Narcissa chose this moment to speak up for her husband by saying, "You are graciously invited into our home and you feel that you should tell my husband what he should be speaking about?" She stared down her nose at Kingsley and the rest of his group but Lucius held a hand up to dispel the mood that had since arisen.

"Now, Narcissa, they are only trying to gain information concerning what happened earlier. I have no doubt that they are only speaking and acting out of worry for Arthur's boys. I do hope they are alright after their experience in the Alley," he implored innocently of the group.

At this point, Arthur could no longer hold back from snapping at the pompous idiot in front of him. "You dare ask about their welfare, you slimy snake?" His words flew out violently and before he knew it, more followed. "One of my sons is in the hospital with injuries and the other is missing and was said to have been abducted by YOU!" By this point, Arthur had stood to his full height and drawn his wand at the other man with anger so intense that sparks were starting to fly from the end of his wand.

Not willing to be talked to in such a manner in his own home, Lucius had risen to the challenge and drawn his wand as well. "It seems that you still fall for the same folly as ever – putting your faith in second-rate witnesses just so you can pin the blame on me. Tell me, Arthur, were you there to see what happened? Or better yet, can you explain why your underage sons were unattended in Knockturn Alley of all places?" Lucius spoke quietly but sounded just as dangerous as a dragon circling in wait to swoop down and kill his prey at just the right moment.

Arthur's face had long since taken on the familiar Weasley shade of red that his family was famous for and shouted back, "Don't you turn this around on me you bloody liar and who the hell do you think you are, calling my son a second-rate witness? My boy _saw _you apparate away with his twin and you _will_ tell me where the hell he is right now!" By the time he finished, he was only inches away from the blond wizard, who had also stepped up to meet the slightly shorter man.

Lucius growled out dangerously while still maintaining eye contact with Arthur, "Auror Shacklebolt, I will kindly request just once that you remove this disgraceful excuse for a wizard from my estate immediately. He is being quite rude and accusative and is giving my wife a fright. I'll not allow it."

Kingsley boldly stepped forward and spoke, "Not until you tell us what you know concerning Arthur's son's disappearance."

Lucius, who continued to glare disdainfully at Arthur, calmly responded by saying, "I did see one of your boys being apparated away, although I was not the one to do it, and no, I cannot identify the one that did. Now, kindly remove yourselves from my estate."

The rest of the group joined Kingsley and Arthur to stand and leave. They proceeded to walk back to the main entranceway but, as the group emerged, Arthur turned to Lucius and threateningly shoved his wand in the other man's face.

"So help me, Merlin, if I find out that you had anything to do with Fred's disappearance, I will kill you myself! Am I clear, Malfoy?" Arthur growled, standing as tall and looking as intimidating as he could.

Lucius merely smirked at the other man and replied, "Oh, was that the name of the one that went missing? I never would have known the difference between the two. In fact, you should count yourselves lucky – at least you still have half the set left and now, more of your measly funds to spend on the rest of your brood."

Arthur snarled in rage and started to shout out a curse before Kingsley disarmed him and forced him to follow the other aurors back down the path to the gate, all the while telling Arthur that it would do no good to further enrage the Malfoy family.

The last thing Arthur saw of Malfoy before they reached the gate was a smug smile on the man's face. It was that look which confirmed more than anything else he'd seen and heard that day that told Arthur exactly who was responsible for his son's disappearance.

He grudgingly allowed Kingsley to side-along apparate him back to Diagon Alley where they would meet up with Percy before going back to the hospital. Once his feet hit the ground, however, the majority of his anger left him and was replaced with a terrible feeling of despair. They knew exactly who to go after, but they had nothing concrete to use against the man. A look at Kingsley reflected the same thoughts on the other man's face.

Arthur leaned against a wall of some establishment or another and sank down to the ground, resting his head in his hands. It was at that moment that Percy and Auror Tonks came around the corner to meet them and Percy knew in an instant that their search had also yielded no good responses. Without saying a word, the teen sat on the ground beside his father and stared out at the Alley, wondering where on earth his younger brother could be.

**Okay, you know the drill – please please please review! It takes me six hours to make a chapter and two minutes for you to review it… come on… do it… you know you want to! **

**What do you think about Percy, the Malfoys, and the Golden Trio? I wasn't planning to include all of them, but they may come in handy… Any ideas? **


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**WOW thanks everyone for the reviews! They were so fantabulous that I thought I'd get started on the next chapter today! Amanda, magicgirl29, teamgredandforge, and everyone else: I'm glad you like it so much! Thanks for reading!**

**Lucy – thank you SO much for catching that! I was wondering if it fit or not and then what to do with it… I hope this chapter explains it a bit. Thanks!**

**Chapter Eight**

_Drip… drip… drip…_

"Really?" Fred sardonically asked aloud, although he knew that no one could hear him. He was almost positive that they had broken the faucet, or whatever it was that was dripping, intentionally – just to set his nerves on end.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

"How can you stand that noise? I mean, this place is so…" Fred trailed off, thinking of just the sarcastic comment to describe his surroundings, "delightful, endearing, heavenly almost."

_Drip… drip… drip…_

"To think that you'd let it go to the dogs just because of a broken faucet…" Fred remarked, thinking that this place had gone to the dogs long before he was even born. He listened closely for a moment to see if anyone was nearby, but he only heard that familiar pattern yet again.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

"I mean, you are wizards. You have wands," Fred stated factually, waving his hand around as if gesturing to other people that he knew must still be in the building. He sighed and rested his hand on his forehead, giving up the hope that someone would take the hint and fix the damn leak. "Oh, never mind it; I'll find my wand and fix it myself someday."

_Drip… drip… drip…_

Fred was fairly certain that at this point, even if the dripping sound stopped, his mind would supply it for him. Pretty soon, he feared, his heart would be beating to the tune of the dripping. He wondered idly if that would be bad for his overall health and then decided that, in comparison to all the other things that weren't going for him at the moment, the rhythm of his heart beat was a small matter to worry over.

He didn't know how long it had been since Wormtail had left him here. Of his current state, he knew only two things: he was freezing and his body ached. And it was dark. Okay, so make that three things. In any event, it was pitch black in here, wherever 'here' was. When Wormtail left, the man had shut the door which had been letting in a little light. There was now not a single bit of light to be seen. Fred waved his hand in front of his face but couldn't make out anything.

At first, he had panicked, thinking that he had gone blind somehow. He worried that at some point, he must have fallen asleep or passed out and, during that time, Wormtail must have come back and blinded him. Fred had been only slightly relieved when he ran his fingers over his eyes and discovered that they felt normal enough. He was still worried that his eyes would fail him if – when – the door opened again.

Having had that battle at least momentarily put on hold, Fred had decided to get a feel (ha!) for where he was. That decision was short-lived, however, when he tried to move from where Wormtail had thrown him. His back felt like it was on fire and his ribs ached as well. He was no healer, but he figured that they could be cracked, or at least bruised pretty badly. In any event, he chose not to examine his surroundings but to roll slightly so that he was on his back.

He'd spent the night – or at least, he thought it was a night – in that position, his mind ensnared by the repetitive dripping and his heart seized from the loneliness of the place. Every time he tried to think of where George was, or what had happened to his twin, his head ached. He couldn't figure out, mainly due to the incessant dripping, what exactly had happened before he had arrived here. The more he thought about it – or tried to, at least – the more frustrated and angry he grew.

Fred closed his eyes and concentrated, vaguely remembered the game of Quidditch and how it had gone horribly wrong. What on earth had come over him and his twin? He shook his head lightly, amazed at how many things had gone downhill in the last few days. There was a reason for it…

_Drip… drip… drip… _

What was he thinking about? George, he was thinking about George. Fred shook his head to clear the confusion and hoped his twin was okay. When was the last time he had seen him? There was the argument, the running into the house, and the floo –

_Drip… drip… drip…_

The floo. _'What about it?'_ Fred thought, distractedly. Fred's throat started to ache, not only from a lack of water but from the frustration of not being able to finish a single thought without having his small bit of concentration torn from him.

His stomach rumbled painfully for a moment, and he cautiously brought a hand to hold against it, wishing that the pain from his injuries would at least stop. Fred winced, his eyes shutting tightly, as his body shook from the cold again and wondered what the plan for him was. Would they keep him alive to use as some sort of a bargaining chip? Or would they leave him here and let him die from the cold, his injuries, or hunger?

Fred opened his eyes, even though the sight to see didn't change at all. He turned his head in the direction that he thought the door was in and waited for it to open. As he did so, he counted the series of drips that fell, noting that they seemed to gradually get louder and louder as they fell to the ground.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Weasley sure had a lot of spare buttons. None of the buttons had a matching partner and yet, they all seemed to belong together. There were large round ones, smaller oval shaped ones, and even a few square ones. Each of those came in various colors and they consisted of materials such as hard cloth, wood, or metal. And of course, seeing as the buttons belonged to a family of witches and wizards, some had personalities of their own. A few had the tenacity to jump out of reach or to try and button themselves to each other. It was amusing to watch, even though it made it harder to sort them.<p>

Harry sighed and reached for another jumping button. George had come home from St. Mungo's the same night of the incident in the alley, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided that they would try to find out what he knew about the potion that Fred had taken during the following night. The plan had been for Harry to spend time with Mrs. Weasley, who had, in response to the stress, taken to cleaning anything and everything under the roof of the Burrow. While doing this, she also tried to be around George as much as possible and ensure that the other children weren't bothering him.

While Harry was trying to help (or in Ron's words, distract) Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione would go to talk to George. Harry had thought it to be a great idea when they were at the hospital. They all wanted to be able to do something to help. It wasn't until that first night back in the Burrow, as he lay on his cot in Ron's room, that he wondered what they would do with the information. It wasn't like they would be able to find an antidote of some sort and just send it to Fred with an owl.

He had thought about mentioning this flaw in their plan to Ron, or maybe even Hermione, but had been deterred by Ron's determination to do _something _useful. Ron had even sat down and constructed a letter to Sirius that they could send after they'd learned what they could about the potion from George. Harry thought it was a bit strange that Hermione hadn't noticed this flaw and said something about it to Ron. In fact, it almost looked like she did know about it and was steadfastly ignoring it, which didn't make any sense to Harry.

Shaking his head, he picked up a few more blue buttons and put them in a small bowl to his left. One of the buttons was laughing at him, but he was too lost in thought to tell it to bugger off. Just after dinner that night, which had been a quiet event that George had neglected to attend, Ron waved to Harry to go talk to Mrs. Weasley as she bustled into the kitchen. Grabbing his plate, Harry walked after her and noticed Ron and Hermione climbing the stairs to George's room.

He had gone into the kitchen and set his plate near the sink, asking how she was doing. He'd immediately regretted it as she put a hand to her mouth and tried not to cry. Harry had to work to not bolt from the kitchen, and he slowly walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She had taken a shaky breath and then wrapped her arms around him for a few moments.

Harry let her hug him and hoped that this was more comforting to her than it was upsetting. She slowly released him and thanked him for being so kind and caring and, as he floundered for a response, she sat him down at the table and asked if he would help her out by sorting some buttons. He had nodded rather dumbly and started working on the task as she finished up doing the dishes.

After about half an hour of hearing the sounds of running water, clinking dishes, and bouncing buttons, Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley sit down with a cup of tea and some knitting to work on. Realizing that he only had a few handfuls of buttons to sort, Harry sped up so that he'd have a chance to try and talk to her again.

The chance was taken away as Hermione quietly walked into the kitchen and, upon seeing him seated at the table, pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. She sighed and dropped her head into her hands in a very un-Hermione sort of way. He glanced at her a few times before asking softly, "How'd it go?"

She shook her head but said, "Okay, I guess. He gave us some parchment with a few variations of the potion they made, though we're not sure exactly which one was the one Fred drank."

Harry nodded and asked, "Where's Ron?"

"With George," Hermione answered. She turned her head to rest it on her hand so she could look at him. "Neither of them wanted to say much that wasn't about the potion, and I figured it'd be easier if I wasn't there."

Feeling like one of those muggle 'bobbleheads,' Harry nodded again. He wanted to ask her about her thoughts regarding the usefulness of this investigation, but she already looked strained enough.

Almost as if she'd read his mind, she asked, "What's on your mind?"

He paused before answering but decided to just say what he'd been thinking. "What are we going to do with this information? There's no way it'll be any use to –"

Harry stopped as Hermione smiled lightly. He tilted his head at her curiously and she replied, "There's no real purpose for it. At least, there isn't if… until Fred gets back." She sighed and explained further, seeing that Harry still wasn't following her. "I think Ron knows there's no point in looking at that potion. He just needs to do something, and this is the only thing he can do aside from run away to look for Fred, and that would just destroy his parents."

He hadn't thought about it that way. Harry looked back to the buttons and picked out a few spotted wooden ones and set them in a bowl before saying, "I'm glad you're here, Hermione. At least you understand Ron enough to translate him for me."

At that, she laughed lightly and said, "I don't think I'll ever understand him." He smiled at her and they spent the next few minutes sorting the last of the buttons into their respective bowls before heading upstairs to check on Ron. With any luck, some of their work might actually be useful, but if it wasn't, Harry found that he agreed with Ron; it was at least good to be doing _something_.

* * *

><p>The Burrow was unusually quiet during the next two days. George had holed up in his and Fred's room, hardly coming out unless he needed the bathroom or something to drink. Molly and Arthur had tried to get him to join them for dinner, but soon realized that forcing him to be around family wasn't going to make things any easier for him.<p>

The particular event that caused his parents to come to this realization had occurred the night after Fred had gone missing. Bill had returned home early that morning and Charlie was due in that evening as well. Ever since Arthur and Percy had returned, Molly had been trying her hardest to work around the huge gap in her family so that they wouldn't see how much it was affecting her. She had nearly broken down while convincing George to come eat something with them, and it was her distraught expression which had made George stand and follow her down the stairs.

Although George's hurts from the fight in Knockturn Alley had been healed already, Bill's hug was enough to draw a wince from him. He heard Bill say something in his ear, but his mind was so unfocused that he couldn't piece it together. Not wanting to admit that he'd not been listening, George twisted slightly to get away from Bill, who was wearing an expression similar to their mother's.

A few more awkward moments passed by during which George felt the need to run back upstairs and take refuge in his and Fred's room. He couldn't stop looking around for Fred. He wondered absentmindedly if this was what it was like to look for your shadow at night. But then again, Fred would never be his shadow, just as George wouldn't be Fred's shadow. The two of them were meant to move together, not in succession, and George sorely missed the comfort that having his twin around brought him. Just then, Molly bustled in with several dishes floating behind her and after she set them on the table, everyone took their seats. George made his way to his seat and tried not to look at the plate and silverware that his mum had laid out in front of Fred's chair.

His siblings and parents quietly passed around the various parts of the meal: bread and butter, honey-orange glazed chicken, salad, and juice. He took a piece of bread and set it on his plate. George had no intention of getting anything else – he wasn't hungry anyways – so he passed the salad and chicken right along to Bill, who had ended up sitting next to him. Bill didn't seem to approve of what was on George's plate and promptly set a piece of chicken on it.

'_At least it's not the salad,'_ George thought dejectedly, staring at the chicken that was covered in what he knew was a delicious glaze. Red pepper flakes and tiny bits of orange peel stood out against the color of the chicken and the sweet, spicy smell wafted towards him. Instead of feeling his mouth water, however, his stomach turned slightly and he moved to gently push his plate away. Just before he did, he glanced at his mother and knew without a doubt that pushing away his food would terribly upset her.

He mechanically picked up his knife and fork and cut off a small piece of the chicken and bit the piece off the fork. If it wasn't for the fact that his mother was the best cook he'd ever known (including the Hogwarts house elves), he'd have thought that she had burned the food and put in ingredients that had gone off. George figured it would be cliché to say that the food tasted like ash in his mouth, but it truly tasted like nothing to him at the moment.

A small part of him briefly forgot where he was and he turned slightly to comment on the food to Fred, only to fall back into his chair and face forward glumly. _'You could tell Bill,' _he argued with himself, but making such a comment was different with anyone but Fred. He would have to explain more with anyone else, and the realization made him feel even more lost than before.

No one seemed to notice how uncomfortable the whole experience was getting to be for George. Next to him, Bill set down his fork and asked their father, "What's going to happen next, Dad?"

'_With any luck, dessert," _George thought, trying desperately to focus on something that would have helped to ease the tension had Fred been here. _'But Fred's not here, and that's why I'm such a mess right now…' _George knew he should listen, but he moved his eyes to his plate, not wanting to be there to hear everyone talk about what they would do.

Arthur sighed and began to explain what the aurors as well as several old members of some organization or another wanted to do. George didn't pay it any mind – he knew they wouldn't allow him to help.

"Do you…" Percy started, and then began again. "When do you think they'll find him?" Nobody commented on the slip that Percy had nearly made with that question.

'_Probably won't find him before dessert… he'll be pissed when he finds out that we ate it without him,' _George thought, smirking ever so slightly as his throat started to burn. No one around him seemed to notice.

Still staring at his plate, George heard his little sister ask, her words heavy with emotion, whether Fred would be okay or not.

George's hands clenched on each side of his plate as he thought with furious denial, _'Of course he'll be okay – well, except for missing out on dessert.' _He didn't notice that his breathing had sped up. In his mind, he kept trying to come up with responses that Fred might throw to each of his errant thoughts. He couldn't think of a single thing his twin might say.

Further down the table, Arthur took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and tried to answer his daughter's question. "Well, sweetie, we're going–"

He was interrupted by a loud popping sound that came from the garden, signaling that Charlie had finally arrived. George didn't look up as his brother walked into the house and over to their mother to hug her. He didn't say a word as Charlie sat down across from him and dished up some food.

Feeling eyes on him and needing something to distract him from the tension, George picked up his fork and tore off another small bite of chicken. It tasted the same as the last bite, although this one made him feel sick to his stomach. He cringed as he swallowed it and let the words of the others drift over him.

They were talking about Fred – _'big surprise – the bloody idiot picks a fight in Knockturn Alley and loses, and suddenly he's all anyone wants to talk about.' _George ignored lump in his throat and clenched his fists and eyes shut even tighter. _'They're even delaying dessert for him, the damned martyr.' _"Where is dessert, anyways?" George wondered, although he realized belatedly that he'd wondered that last bit out loud.

He jumped at the touch and looked down to see that Bill had put his hand on George's forearm. George looked at his oldest brother and saw him nodding at something that Charlie was saying. It seemed like the family had chosen to ignore George's comment about dessert. George sighed and then followed Bill's line of sight to land on Charlie. He felt his forehead wrinkle a bit as he forced himself to listen.

"–to hear that Malfoy was there. You checked up on that?" Charlie asked.

George looked over to his father, who replied while glaring down at his hands, "Yes we did and you can just imagine the sort of reception we got from the Malfoys. He had the nerve to blame me as a parent for why the twins were even there in the first place. Lucius and Narcissa all but openly mocked us before kicking us out of their estate." George noticed that his mum had discreetly put a hand on Arthur's shoulder during the man's angered explanation.

Charlie, meanwhile, tilted his head slightly and turned to ask George, "What _were_ you two doing in Knockturn Alley of all places?"

Everyone else already knew the reason, as stupid as it was. George felt his chest tighten as he directed his eyes once more to his plate of mostly untouched food. To George's dismay, no one made a move to explain for him, so it was with a deep and shaky breath that he started to recount the events of that terrible day.

"We–" George paused, thinking _'One word and you freeze up! Great! _He shook his head and continued. "We got into an argument during a game of Quidditch." That sentence in and of itself just sounded strange, especially when everyone knew that it referred to the twins, who rarely argued about anything serious. "He – Fred – started jumping through the floo networks and I followed him…"

Charlie was nodding slowly, thinking back to when he and Bill had done the same thing when they were younger. They hadn't done it in anger, but rather to annoy their parents and because they could. The younger siblings all remembered the trouble that the two boys had been in during the weeks that followed though.

"And you chased him all the way to Knockturn Alley?" Charlie asked. "Why would you two even think of going there?"

At that moment, all of the guilt and worry in George grew exponentially and he knew it would only be a matter of time until it would overwhelm him. Still, he tried to answer, but froze on the word "I..." His eyes darted left and right, taking in the fact that everyone's eyes were on him. _'What do I do? I can't just blame Fred for the whole thing – none of it would have happened if not for that bloody potion! Or maybe… if I had just let him go… he wouldn't have felt the need to keep running…' _

Bill was trying to get his attention and had a hand on his arm again. Across from him, George heard Charlie apologizing for sounding like it was anyone's fault, but the distraught teen didn't hear him. George stood up abruptly while stammering out the only explanation he could think of. "I'm sorry… he – I couldn't, shouldn't have… I–" George couldn't take it anymore and bolted for the door, running to the woods that his twin had taken refuge in only days before.

As he darted through the garden, George heard the door swing open and a pair of feet hitting the ground behind him. _'Leave me alone!' _He thought, running faster towards the trees. He reached the edge of the trees and darted in between the tall firs. After a few minutes of doing this, the effort from running so far under such stress got to him and knocked him off his feet.

George fell to his knees next to a massive tree and choked on the air around him; it was as if there wasn't enough air in the world to keep him alive. He suddenly wished that he hadn't run from the house. He didn't want to be alone, and it was the loneliness that was closing his throat and causing traitorous tears to fall from his eyes.

Barely a moment passed before George heard someone approach him from the direction he'd been running from. A small part of him worried over it, but he didn't have time to react as a strong, confident pair of arms wrapped around him. George shook slightly and allowed himself to be pulled into the other's arms. _'Must be Bill,' _George thought, still trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and let his brother's arms support him.

**Is it Bill that's come out to meet George? Or is it someone else? Let me know who you'd like it to be!**

**Thank you so much for reading and I'm especially grateful for those of you that review! YOU MAKE ME SMILE! No, you make me GRIN – like this :D hehehe I'll stop now.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

**Chapter Nine**

That damned dripping sound – he was so thirsty, too.

He'd been trying to count each series of three, just to keep his mind occupied. Fred was up to two hundred and seven now, although he knew there had been many more than that. He couldn't help it; he kept falling asleep where he lay.

Part of him wondered if he'd hit his head, and whether that might be why he couldn't stay awake for more than a few hundred counts of the dripping noise. He wasn't sure if his limited attention span was more due to the pain in his head or the increasingly irritating sound.

Despite only having about twenty seconds between each series of drips, he was able to mostly recall what had led to his being imprisoned in this dark and freezing cold room. Fred honestly couldn't puzzle out why he would have led himself and his twin to Knockturn Alley. He remembered not being worried about it in the slightest – as if it had just been a game that he'd been playing with George. _'I guess it's obvious who won, then,' _Fred thought sardonically.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

Fred stared ahead at nothing, thinking back on how he and his twin had fired off spells at each other in various stores. He smiled lightly as he thought about how much trouble they'd be in when their mum found out. The smile fell when he again asked himself, _'Why didn't I just listen to him?'_

_Drip… drip… drip… _

He closed his eyes, his nerves frayed from hearing that sound over and over. Honestly, he would learn wandless magic just to –

_Creak… _

Fred opened his eyes, even though he couldn't see a thing, and looked all around, wondering if he had really heard that last sound. Was someone coming back? Maybe they hadn't forgotten him! _'Then again, that might be just as bad as being left alone,' _he noted silently.

But a new sound was good. It meant that something was changing. Whether the change was good or bad, he didn't know, but he longed to hear something other than that dripping sound. He cringed when he thought about seeing light again. He'd once stayed up all night when he was a kid; he'd been hiding with George in the attic and making sure all the lights were off. They knew that Mum would come and make them do chores in the morning and both boys wanted to stall as much as they could. So they played in the dark without making any noise, until their mum had come up and lit the room with a bright light from her wand. His eyes had been sore for a while after becoming so adjusted to the dark and that was only after one night. He worried about what it would be like if – when – he saw light next.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

He strained his ears to try and detect anything else, but he couldn't hear a single noise other than the drip. Just as he was about to owe it all to his desperation to hear something else, a sound that could have been someone's voice echoed towards him. All Fred could hear was the noise of it. He couldn't piece out what was being said at all.

Suddenly, the noise from the voice became louder and then a there was a split second of nothing.

_Thump._

Fred wasn't sure why, but that last sound sent shivers down his spine. It was that same sense that you get when you know that someone's talking about you. The teen felt frozen to the spot and waited for that familiar sound to come back. As much as he loathed it, he knew that without it, the only sense he would be able to use would be touch, and the cold had already numbed that sense to the point that it was useless.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

He sighed in relief. He didn't know what had caused the thump to echo in his direction, but he felt that he was probably better off not knowing.

* * *

><p>George let himself lean against his older brother as he tried to regain control. He didn't trust himself to say anything, although he knew Bill – it had to be Bill that was with him – would want to talk before heading back to the Burrow.<p>

Until that moment though, he let himself be comforted by arms that wrapped around him and held him securely in place. It was strangely cold that night, but he felt warm at the moment and kept his eyes closed, allowing himself to relax and breathe a bit more easily. They stayed like that for a while until George opened his eyes and looked ahead.

It was darker out now than it had been when he'd left the house, although he felt like his eyes had adjusted enough so that he could see just fine. He sat up and twisted slightly, so he could say something to his brother, although he had no idea what to say. As he turned though, he saw who it was and it definitely wasn't Bill.

It was Percy. George stared at him for a moment and Percy looked right back, not looking at him with pity or anything; he just calmly looked back at George. He wasn't sure if he was laughing, or if it was something else all together, but George felt his shoulder shake a bit before he let himself lean into Percy.

"Gee, Perce, but you're the last person I expected to see here," George commented, attempting to smile faintly at this new turn of events as he pulled away from his brother. The emotions choked him up too much though, and he turned to gaze out at the trees again.

Percy nodded and said, "Me too. I'm glad you stopped when you did, 'cause I don't think I could have kept up for much longer. You run too fast."

George just nodded back at him and they both sat quietly for a few minutes. It was a rare event indeed in which either of the twins and Percy even got along, much less were able to spend time near each other without driving the other up the wall. He wondered idly why Percy, of all his siblings, had been the one to come out here. He almost suspected, though it was horrible of him to think it, that Percy would feel as if the twins had deserved this for all the torment they caused their older brother.

Almost as if he'd heard George's thoughts, Percy began to speak. "Once, when I was five, I was playing with something of Bill's. It was a glass ornament with moving snowflakes that would drift along the outside of it as you spun it around. I wasn't supposed to be playing with it, so when Bill saw me, he shouted at me to put it down. He startled me and I dropped it, and the glass shattered on the floor. He was so upset, even after Mum came up and fixed it right back to normal."

George didn't say anything as Percy spoke. He hadn't heard his brother talk like this since he and Fred were much younger and, though he would be reluctant to admit it, the sound was relaxing to listen to.

Percy continued on with the story. "Bill didn't talk to me for a couple days, and it was during that time that I found out that the ornament had belonged to our great-grandmother."

He didn't have any memories of the woman, though George had known all about her, for his mum had talked about her a lot when they were younger. She'd been quiet, but very caring and giving. She had made one of those ornaments for each of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Fred and George had each received one, though they had long since been stored somewhere safe due to the fact that the twins couldn't hold onto anything breakable without risking its welfare for long.

George thought about where those ornaments might be for a moment, finding that he suddenly had an urge to see them. He missed a bit of what Percy had been saying.

"…and even despite that, he still wouldn't talk to me. I couldn't really understand why though." Percy was gazing out at the trees, though it was obvious that he was lost in a memory. "A few days later, I was outside with Charlie and he had been trying to climb on Dad's shed, which I knew was a bad idea. I had tried to tell him to come down, and he finally did – he landed right on top of me. The bloody idiot broke my arm and didn't even have a scratch on himself."

The mental image of a young Charlie falling on an even younger Percy made George snicker quietly. Not to mention the fact that Percy had just used a word that George had been convinced was not in the older boy's vocabulary, since it was 'improper' or something like that.

"Charlie ran back inside and I was sure he'd get Mum, but instead, Bill came out. I figured he'd just ignore me since he had still seemed mad that morning. Imagine my surprise when he started to look more upset than I was and then _carried _me back into the house. I remember that I wasn't sure whether I should feel happy that he no longer was ignoring me or embarrassed at how he was fussing over me." Percy rolled his eyes and muttered, "Honestly, sometimes he's worse than Mum…"

George knew where Percy was going with this. He felt guilty for thinking badly of his brother when he'd first realized just who had come outside with him.

"I know you guys say I act like a prat sometimes," Percy said, tilting his head to the side a bit and smiling. "Granted, you and Fred aren't angels either. But don't worry too much," Percy said, looking at George who had turned to meet his brother's eyes. "I'll be here for you if Charlie somehow falls on you and breaks your arm."

At that, George had to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. "If Charlie fell on me, I think a broken arm would be the least of my worries."

Percy nodded and leaned back against a tree. The two enjoyed a comfortable silence before Percy sighed and said, "We should probably get back."

George nodded, but neither of them moved an inch to leave. He honestly wouldn't mind staying out in the trees for the rest of the night. Thinking about going back to the house made George's throat restrict again. "I don't…" he paused for a shaky breath, "I don't know what to do without him here." He rested his head upon his knees and played with a stray branch that had fallen to the ground.

Percy shrugged slightly and replied, "Same as you'd do if he was here. Although, you may want to tone down the jokes and pranks a bit or else Mum might snap."

George's eyes shut as he laughed quietly. Was Percy really telling him that it was okay to go cause trouble like this? The world really had been flipped upside down. He turned and eyed Percy as he said, "It's a lot easier to do that when there's someone else to help."

Percy looked up to the branches above him, wearing a thoughtful expression before saying, "Well, I guess I could help you out, although I'm better at being the victim rather than the culprit." George was looking at his older brother in a new light and had to refrain from laughing as Percy smiled widely and asked, "How many gnomes do you think we can let into Ron's room before they realize we're back?"

George did laugh at that one jumped up while holding a hand out to Percy. "There's only one way to find out!"

As the two made their way back to the Burrow, George shook his head at the thought that Percy wanted to help pull a prank on Ron. He wondered vaguely if he was dreaming, but no, he was too cold to be comfortable enough to sleep. Seeing that Percy would go this far to cheer him up, George figured that he must look like a nervous wreck to everyone.

A small part of his mind questioned whether attempting to pull a prank – with Percy's help! – would really be a wise idea. He knew it probably wasn't appropriate, nor was it right for him to do something like this without Fred here. But then he thought about what he, George, would want, if the tables were turned. If Fred were here, George would want him to keep the family's spirits up, hard as the task might be to achieve. Deciding that it was the right thing to do, regardless of the consequences, George smiled and walked a bit faster back to the Burrow.

That was the first time since Fred had drank that potion that he really felt he knew what his twin would do without having to check first.

Glancing at Percy, he could see that the older boy was also worried about what had happened. It didn't go unnoticed by George that he'd volunteered to cause trouble partly to take his mind off of what had happened. No matter what Percy's reason was, George was grateful for Percy's help. He still felt a bit guilty about allowing it, but it eased the loneliness that he felt from not having Fred there with him.

The two approached the house quietly, sneaking through the garden. George started to catch a gnome but was halted by Percy, who smiled conspiratorially and held his wand up. Being of age to do magic outside of Hogwarts had its benefits. George grinned as Percy levitated the gnome out of the garden and into the air. Dodging a stray rat that was running through the garden, George climbed up the wall and opened the latch to Ron's window and smirked as seven gnomes were levitated up onto Ron's bed.

The poor garden creatures were incredibly unhappy about their relocation and expressed their displeasure through loud whines and screeches. It was all Percy and George could do to not laugh when they saw and heard those in the house going upstairs to investigate it.

They quickly made their way to the door and slipped inside, watching behind them where gnomes were being flung back out into the yard. Upstairs, their mother was heard screeching about which one of her children had let gnomes (of all things) into the house. It seemed like so far, she was blaming Ron for housing them. George snickered at the foot of the stairs as they heard Ron whine loudly to defend himself.

"But Mum… I was downstairs with you lot! How could I have–" Ron argued.

"Well, if you didn't do it, then who did?" Molly screeched, at her wit's end trying to understand why this was happening.

At that moment, Percy and George came to the landing near Ron's room and saw Bill and Charlie standing in the hallway, smirking. The two older boys looked at the new arrivals and Bill shook his head and Charlie's gaze was unreadable as Percy and George peeked past their mum into Ron's room. As they looked in at the already shredded bedding, Percy exclaimed, "Well, I guess you're right, George. They aren't house-broken after all."

Everyone, including the lone gnome left in Ron's room, stopped and stared at George and Percy.

George just nodded and said, "Seems that way. That's a shame – I was hoping to tame the little buggers and keep 'em as pets. It was worth a try though."

Percy faked a piteous expression and patted George on the shoulder as he said, "There now, you already have a pet – Ron."

At this, Ron looked confused for a moment before an affronted expression lit upon his face. He jumped up and shouted, "Hey!" Harry and Hermione, who were standing next to their friend, seemed content to just chuckle quietly at Ron's indignation.

Molly was looking at George and Percy with an unreadable look. Everyone turned to watch her, not sure how she would respond to the situation. After a moment, her lips scrunched together as if she was trying not to smile and then she said, "Gone to the dark side, have you Percy? Ah well…"

No one quite knew what to say as she chuckled and shook her head at them before walking back downstairs. The kids looked at Arthur who had the same expression they did.

"Well, kids," he said, bringing his hands together in front of him, "you heard your mother. Clean this up and then come down for dessert!" With that, he too went downstairs.

Ron was the only one who looked confused, and everyone laughed as he muttered, "She never said anything about cleaning…"

Percy ducked into Ron's room and started to use his wand to clean up and mend the torn bedding. George made as if to follow when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw Bill motioning for George to follow him and Charlie up the stairs.

The three boys made their way into Bill's old room. Bill stood, leaning against his old desk, while George sat down heavily on the bed. Charlie stood next to the door, following George with his eyes. If George hadn't been feeling so tired from the day's events, he might have noticed how strangely Charlie was acting.

Instead, he rubbing his face with his hands and looked over at Bill. His eldest brother looked back at him, and George realized that Bill looked almost as tired as he did. He'd arrived early that morning and had spent most of the day talking with their parents and with a few aurors, probably trying to figure out things that they could do or investigate. George wasn't entirely sure, since he had been hiding in his room for the better part of the day.

After a few moments, Charlie walked forward and said, "George, I'm sorry about what happened at dinner. I didn't mean to… make it sound like it was your fault. I just…" At that he paused and then glared at George before saying, "Bill told me about that potion, and though none of us know much about it, he said that it might've affected Fred. How could you two –"

"Charlie," Bill warned, crossing his arms and looking at the floor. "It doesn't really matter why any of this happened." Charlie looked down at Bill's words and George waited to hear what else he'd say. "What we need to focus on now is what we can do to find Fred and then reverse whatever affects this potion had, if it's still affecting him."

George nodded briefly and then commented, "I think it will be. Hermione and Ron asked about it, and I think Hermione's going to try and research it until there's a book made just for it." He shook his head at that thought, but continued on. "Anyways, she said something about one of the ingredients… I think it was the fluxweed, or maybe it was the peppermint… something about how they interact…"

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Those are both mints. They'd counter each other and reverse any desired effect. At least it did in Charlie's potion class. Remember when you tried to make Featherlight Potion so you could run up the stairs faster, and you put in both of those?" Bill asked Charlie, who started to laugh.

"Yeah, I drank it and my feet were so heavy that I couldn't even lift them up a single step. Professor Snape had to come give me an antidote where I was," he explained, shaking his head.

George shook his head in amusement, but he was pondering just what this could mean for Fred. This certainly explained why he'd been acting so unusual. The original effect of the potion was supposed to cause you to feel happy and excited, or something along those lines. If he acted the opposite way every time someone talked to him…

"In any event, potions dealing with emotions and the mind are pretty complicated. The effects could be totally different from what we're guessing at. Maybe Dad can find a way to contact Professor Snape about it," Bill said. Both George and Charlie nodded along. "In the meantime, we'll keep trying to think of things to do to help."

Charlie nodded and said, "I'm going to go talk to Dad now about that." He barely met George's eyes as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

George glanced back to the floor and then brought his hands up to rub his temples. He found that he had a headache that had been slowly growing since dinner started. Closing his eyes, he didn't even notice that Bill had moved to sit next to him.

"Are you going to be okay?" Bill asked quietly.

He didn't respond. Instead, he fell back to lie on the bed a bit and gazed at the ceiling.

"I'm glad that you were able to talk to Percy. He's really not so bad… you just need to get him away from his books. We were all a bit surprised to see him go after you, but after hearing how much he wanted to help Dad look for Fred… I guess he's a real Weasley after all, isn't he?"

George turned to look up at his brother and snorted, "Yeah, I guess we can't joke about him being adopted anymore, can we?"

Bill shook his head and looked down at George. "Come on, then. They should've gotten that mess that you and Percy made cleared up by now. Just in time for you to think of something else."

He sighed and replied, "I don't really want to think of anything else. It doesn't feel right without Fred here. I want him back. I wish Dad'd let me help more…"

Bill stood up and looked towards the doorway. "You'll be doing more than you know if you can make them smile and let them know that you're doing okay, despite everything."

George nodded faintly, although he wasn't certain that he believed Bill. Nevertheless, he found himself being pulled off the bed and given a friendly shove towards the door.

* * *

><p>After the younger kids had resorted Ron's room back to how it had been – which looked just as messy as it did when the gnomes were done with it – everyone went back downstairs for a bit before bed. Ron challenged Harry to a game of wizard chess while Hermione and Ginny watched. Bill and Charlie were sitting close to their father as the three went over what Malfoy had said when Kingsley and Arthur had spoken to him. Molly was in the kitchen making some sort of dessert and everyone knew better than to deter her from it. It was the second dessert she'd made that night and George had yet to know what either of them was.<p>

George was sitting next to Percy, looking at the other's book. Never before would he have been able to picture himself sitting still for so long and next to Percy of all people. At times he would turn to watch Ron and Harry's game, which consisted mostly of Harry glaring at his friend while making his pieces retreat across the board and Ron's grinning as he kept winning. At other times, he caught words from the conversation between his two oldest brothers and his father. When that happened, he made a distinct effort to turn his attention to Percy's book. He knew that if he listened to too much, that the emotions could take hold again and force him out of the room. Besides, he'd all but promised Bill to try and pull through this.

George tilted his head as he glanced at the page that Percy was so engrossed in. One section read, "The coolest of temperatures also need to be taken into account when selecting the finish to apply to your cauldron. Too thin a finish may increase the likelihood of cracking when the temperatures change drastically. Just so, too thick a finish may unintentionally alter the final temperature of the brew, so that the observed and actual temperatures are different. This is, of course, crucial to–"

He shook his head and leaned back, slightly afraid to realize that he'd understood what the section was talking about. Deciding that he needed to rescue his brother from his "old, boring ways," George reached over and grabbed the book, shutting it and then tossing it aside with a light thump.

"You can't honestly tell me that you _enjoy_ reading about cauldrons," George said, shaking his head at Percy.

Percy sighed and said, "Any better ideas?"

"Ron and Harry are starting a new game. Want to make it so Harry wins for once?" George suggested.

Percy rolled his eyes and nodded, moving to stand behind Ron so that he could give signals for what move to make to Harry. He saw that George hadn't moved yet and waved him over discreetly.

George was thinking about the personality shift that Percy had seemed to make so suddenly. He wondered why Percy had never showed this side of himself before. Then again, with Fred and George being so close, it would be hard to join the two without obviously being the odd one out. How Lee had managed to fit in so well with them, they weren't sure. George was yanked out of his thoughts just in time as Percy came and pulled him up from the couch.

The rest of the night passed quietly, aside from Ron's noisy whining about George and Percy helping Harry to cheat. Nevertheless, Harry won that game of wizard chess, and he was grinning at Ron throughout the redhead's ranting. They all moved upstairs to go to sleep after that. Without a word, George followed Percy into the older boy's room, mumbling something about the possibility of a gnome escaping from Ron's room into his. Neither of them voiced anything serious about it, for which both were glad.

They slept relatively well until about halfway through the night, when they, as well as most everyone else in the house, were awakened by muffled screaming coming from Ron's room, which he was sharing with Harry. George and Percy walked down the stairs a few steps and stood next to Bill and Charlie, who were watching their mum and dad comfort and talk to Harry.

"Did he find another gnome in the room?" George asked sleepily.

Bill shook his head and explained quietly, "He's had some sort of a nightmare, though he says it was more than just a dream…"

Percy leaned forward slightly and asked, "What of?"

"_You-Know-Who_," Charlie whispered. "Said something about him… killing some old muggle or something."

Both Percy and George refrained from asking anything more and strained to hear the conversation taking place between Harry and their parents.

"Now, Harry, I'm sure it was just a dream," Arthur was saying, trying to reassure the distraught boy.

"But it felt so real, like I was really there… and the things he said – they didn't make any sense," Harry whispered back. "He was talking about having killed a woman; they said her name was Bertha something… and that they needed to kill another…"

At this, Arthur's eyes narrowed and he asked quietly, "Was her name Bertha Jorkins?"

Not a second later, Molly was giving Arthur an incredulous look that screamed 'How dare you confirm any of this and make it more frightening than it needs to be!' Arthur cringed a bit at the slip, and even more when Harry confirmed that he'd heard that name in the dream.

"He… he said something else, too," Harry whispered, and the boys in the hall could barely hear him. They leaned forward in interest as Harry bent his head down lower, as if he was somehow responsible for what he was about to say.

"What was it, dear?" Molly asked gently.

"That…" What Harry said next was so quiet that the boys in the hall couldn't hear and they exchanged glances to see if any of them had caught it, but to no avail. The look on their mother's face said enough about it though – whatever it was, it certainly wasn't good news.

She looked completely terrified now and was looking to Arthur over Harry's head. He didn't meet her gaze as he stood up and walked past the boys in the hall, ignoring their questioning looks, and continued down to the living area. They caught a call of "Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office" and the whooshing sound of the floo, and then nothing.

**THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed! I was ten times more than ecstatic to get so many reviews when I woke up and turned on my computer! Keep it up! You guys rock!**

**Please let me know how you feel about Percy's role. I know it's a bit OOC for him, but I never really believed that he was such a prick that he would not be affected by something like this. Also, let me know what you think Harry heard, when we should introduce Professor Snape (my favorite character!) into the story, and if you want to hear more from Fred.**

**Lucy, I know you wanted it to be Bill, but I did give him and George some time to talk. Oh, and I wanted to let you know, don't feel stupid for pointing out things that might not make sense – I am so glad you did! It helps me, because I know exactly what's happening, but sometimes forget to add all of the emotional reasoning behind it here. So thank you thank you! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Phoenix158 – lol you can count on my to NOT have romance (I don't understand it, therefore I don't write it) hehe – glad you like it!_

_TeamGredAndForge and Magicgirl29 – Thanks! I'm glad I can make Percy seem awesome! He's not so bad, really : ) Anyways, he may play a good-sized role in this story, but I haven't decided yet… _

_Sxcsami – ARGH you spoiled the movie – I'm kidding! lol – I'm glad you like it so much and that I write a decent Severus – I'm a bit worried about it… _

_Lucy – I pretty much heart your reviews. You are such a sweetheart! I swear I'm dedicating this entire story to you and how much you make me smile! _

**Chapter Ten**

"All I'm saying, Albus, is that it can't be that hard to hang one of my portraits in the top box at the Quidditch World Cup!" Phineas Nigellus Black stated from his portrait near the headmaster's desk. "You're going! You can bring it with you!"

The man in the portrait gazed at the elderly wizard before him and then asked with great resignation, "You're not going, are you?"

"No, Phineas, I'm afraid that I have –"

"– Other matters of great importance to attend to. Yes, I'm sure…" Phineas finished for him. If Albus didn't know any better, he might have thought the previous headmaster was rolling his eyes. "Just what is it this time that's so important?"

Setting down his quill, Albus leaned back and eyed the portrait over his half-moon glasses. "We've discussed this before, Phineas. That event will make too big a target for any ill-intentioned visits, and –"

Just then, the floo roared and both Albus and Phineas turned to see who was arriving. Out from the green flames stepped a pale Arthur Weasley who, as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace, immediately searched out Albus and walked towards the old headmaster.

"Headmaster, I need to speak with you –" The man spoke quickly, but was cut off with a friendly wave.

"Please, Arthur, call me Albus. I haven't been your headmaster for almost forty years. Take a seat and have a lemon drop," Albus suggested. Arthur's momentum lost a bit of its energy and he let himself drop into the seat before the headmaster's desk. His face and, most especially, his eyes still showed the panic that he felt inside. Albus knew the man was incredibly distressed after having one of his sons abducted by Lucius Malfoy and hoped that this visit didn't mean that worse news had reached the Weasley family.

"Albus, there's – how do I explain this?" Arthur asked, more to himself than to the headmaster.

"The beginning usually works best," Albus offered with a small smile. He noticed that Arthur didn't return the smile at all and knew without asking that the visit wasn't to bring good news.

"My twin boys, Fred and George, were experimenting a few days ago with some potion and one of them drank it," Arthur said distractedly, recalling the event as though it had occurred weeks ago rather than a few days ago.

Albus knew about the events leading up to Fred's disappearance and said as much. "Yes, Kingsley came to me and explained what happened. Lucius' actions even had a few old members of the Order concerned, so they're helping to keep an eye out for anything relevant."

Arthur nodded but still didn't say anything.

"What has happened, Arthur?" Albus asked, wondering what it could be that would upset the man so much. Perhaps they had received something from Lucius?

"Just a short while ago, Harry woke us up with some sort of a nightmare. Molly and I went to talk to him, thinking that perhaps it was related to the issues that came up last term with Sirius Black," Arthur explained. As he spoke, his voice sounded more and more doubtful, as if he wasn't sure of what he had heard or witnessed or that he entirely believed it. "What Harry described though… it was far too accurate for it to just have been a dream."

Albus considered this for a moment and then asked the inevitable. "What was it that he dreamt of?"

"You-Know-Who. He dreamt of You-Know-Who and one of his followers and that they had killed an old muggle that had stumbled upon them," Arthur explained quietly. He paused a moment before looking up and saying, "We weren't sure whether or not to believe him at first, but then he mentioned Bertha. You remember Bertha Jorkins, the girl from the Department of Magical Games and Sports that went missing?"

Her disappearance hadn't caused too much of a stir, for she had always been absentminded, but Albus nodded along anyways.

"Harry knew her name and there's no way he should have known about her. I mean, her disappearance wasn't extensively covered in the Prophet," he said, trailing off near the end of that sentence. Arthur nodded to himself and then said, "But what he said next – he said that You-Know-Who had found something, 'a Weasley of his very own,' Harry said. He said he wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with him…"

Arthur's voice choked up as he shook his head and put his head in his hands while Albus considered the other man's words. The old headmaster stood and looked towards the portrait that he'd been conversing with before. "Phineas, would you please summon Severus for me?" The figure in the portrait left to find the Potions Master with only a minimal amount of grumbling as Albus walked around his desk to stand closer to Arthur. He leaned against the front of the desk and pondered what Arthur had told him.

If what Arthur said was true, then this certainly was a turn for the worst. Not only would it confirm the existence of a connection between Harry and Voldemort, but that there may be something terrible planned for the World Cup, or any other sports event that Bertha Jorkins may have known about.

Gazing down at the distraught man before him, Albus also noted that if Harry's dream was true, or if it was a vision of some sort, that the likelihood of retrieving Fred would be drastically lessened. It was plain to see how the stress of the last few days was affecting Arthur. The man appeared much more pale, tired, and aged than he had been the last time Albus had seen him.

Just a moment later, the door to Albus' office opened and in stepped Severus. The Potions Master held an air of tired disinterest which clearly stated that he would much rather return to his brewing or his bed than be here. Under that expression, however, Albus could tell that the other man was slightly curious. The headmaster wondered for a moment about just how much Phineas had shared of the conversation that he and Arthur had held before.

"Severus," Albus greeted, waving the darker man forward to the chair on Arthur's left. He almost neglected to offer a lemon drop, but then changed his mind. "Would you like a lemon drop, my boy?"

True to form, Severus ignored the offer and the offending bowl of candies that Albus had picked up and held before him. He chose instead to move directly to the purpose of his requested visit. "Phineas mentioned something about Potter and the Dark Lord," he stated, letting his dislike for the boy flow into his speech. "And here I was, hoping that he would refrain from causing such a scene outside of the school year."

Albus gave the younger man a discouraging look and replied, "Harry had a dream, or rather, a vision. It involved an old muggle as well as one of Voldemort's followers. In it, he heard Bertha Jorkins' name mentioned, as well as that of Arthur's son, who was abducted a few days ago."

"I see…" he said, though Albus knew that the skeptic younger man doubted every word that was said. Albus didn't blame Severus. To someone that had trained himself to hate, loathe, despise, and distrust anything attached to the name of "Potter," it would seem a bit strange to be asked to fully believe in a mere dream such as the one Harry had. "And you would have me… do what, precisely?"

"I would have you investigate her disappearance, of course," Albus stated calmly, though that wasn't quite what he wanted Severus to do.

"Of course," Severus repeated, though his tone was much less pleasant than the headmaster's had been, showing that he understood the other's intent. "You would ask me to do this based on a claim Potter made of names mentioned in a _dream_ he had – names he could have gleamed from the Prophet – and potentially risk –"

Albus cut him off, not wanting Arthur to know more than he needed to about what Severus was being asked to do. "I do not believe this to be a fictional story that Harry has concocted, and I will not hear any more on that subject," he stated, glad to see that Severus took the hint not to say too much in front of Arthur. "I believe that Ms. Jorkins' involvement may lead to other issues related to her career, and I wish you to look into them."

Severus nodded sharply and stood up to leave. Before he left, he said, "If I should find something of particular importance…"

"Report it to me and we will discuss any further options that can be explored," Albus replied. With that, Severus left the room, and Albus hoped that he would return safely later that night. Though he wanted to inform Arthur that Severus would be searching for his son, he knew better than to do so. It wouldn't take much of a slip to draw unwanted attention to his Potions Master and risk the man's position as a spy.

After it had been quiet for a few moments, Albus looked to Arthur again. The other man's gaze was fixated on Fawkes, who was resting on the perch behind the grand desk. He looked ready to drop at any moment, and it certainly didn't help that he probably wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for a long while yet. The first rays of sunlight were just starting to seep into the room, even though neither of the men in the office paid the pinkish light much attention.

Arthur clenched his eyes shut, almost as if something had pained him, and he asked shakily, "What will I tell Molly? What about the rest of the kids?"

Albus averted his gaze to the window and replied, "You can tell them that every effort is being made to find –"

"That's all fine and true, but what good is it in the end?" Arthur asked. Albus met his gaze and saw the desperation in his eyes. "If he's really with… with You-Know-Who, then…"

"I can't, nor will I, promise that your son will come out of this without being harmed or worse," Albus answered quietly. "But I can say without doubt that any child of yours will persevere as long as they can. Knowing your twin boys, I wouldn't be surprised if young Fred is giving Voldemort a run for his money already."

Though his words came out easily, Albus wished that he could just as easily use his wand to bring the boy back home. Aside from that, they would have to put their faith in Fred's perseverance and hope that Severus might find something that could aid the boy's escape.

* * *

><p>There was a new voice that was echoing through the air now. He strained to hear it over the dripping which continued to reverberate off the walls of his dark prison, but he couldn't make out what words were being said. He thought the new voice sounded familiar and thought idly that the dark and depressing nature of his new environment suited the speaker well. <em>'Wait,'<em> he thought, _'that was why it sounded so familiar…'_

_Drip… drip… drip…_

He mentally shook his head and thought, _'Now, why did it sound familiar again?' _If he didn't know any better, he'd figure that he'd thought along these same lines at least a dozen times now. It had been quite a while since the ominous "thump" sound had occurred, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he'd been forgotten. He mistakenly let his mind wonder if everyone he knew had forgotten him and then decided that it didn't matter if they had. He wasn't quite sure, but he felt like these thoughts should upset him. In any event, he was too tired, sore, and hungry to think on it for too long.

_Drip… drip… drip… …creak…_

Fred lifted his head up at the new sound. His entire body was aching and he hoped that if someone was coming down, that they would bring water. A moment later he heard another, slightly louder, sound of the same nature. Another set of noises – footsteps – joined the creaks echoing through the air and suddenly, a great noise shook the room as whoever it was reached the door and started to open it. Fred jumped at the noise, more surprised than scared of whatever lay beyond the door. A long string of foul language rang out from the other side of the door as Wormtail (that voice could belong to no one else) worked on opening the door.

Another loud crack sounded as the door was thrust open. As it opened, a bright light poured into the room Fred was in, and he cringed and brought a hand up to cover his eyes. Being deprived of light for so long made the small amount of light from Wormtail's wand feel like daggers stabbing into his eyes.

He didn't even have time to react as Wormtail snapped at him to get up. A brief sting to his midsection further encouraged him and he tried as hard as he could to lift himself up. First he rolled over and then made it to his knees, but the pain in his eyes and the dizziness in his head kept him from making any more progress.

Wormtail's whiny, nasally voice cut in through the pain of trying to move too much, growling out, "Come on, get up already…"

A hand grabbing his arm made Fred cry out, for there was a bad cut there that still ached. Despite it, however, the hand yanked him off the floor and he wavered for a moment before moving to lean on the wall next to him. His legs felt like jello below him and stung furiously. Fred cracked open an eye and saw the incredibly blurry image of a skittish man standing before him with a lit wand and an anxious expression.

Before he knew it, Fred was grabbed by the arm again and forced to follow the shorter man back up the stairs. Though he tried to keep track of his surroundings, he was lost in the dizziness that came with moving and the sudden barrage of color and light that he had been denied over the last two days or so.

After a brief walk through the building, which Fred thought looked more like an old house than anything else, they arrived at the room that he'd first seen when he'd arrived. Though he couldn't make out much of the seemingly spinning room, he noticed that the same creature that was wrapped in cloth, You-Know-Who, was there along with another man who was taller and much darker. Not a second after this observation had been made did the hand holding him up disappear, and Fred found himself falling to the floor, unable to support himself after so many hours lying in place without food or water.

He tried to lift himself back up and was able to look towards the bundle of cloth seated in the chair before him. He was a bit thankful that he couldn't actually see the creature in the bundle of cloth. Fred didn't bother to look at the other two in the room.

A voice came from bundle and Fred had to concentrate to make out what it was saying. "It seems that we have been terrible hosts, haven't we? Perhaps I should offer tea or something of the like…"

Though a part of him knew that remaining silent would be the best option, another part of him that was ruled by an anger he didn't know he had wanted to retaliate. Speaking with as much contempt as possible, he replied, "Yes, I'm sure your tea would be delightful, filled with dust, insects, and filthy rats." That last part was directed at Wormtail who stood to his left.

With a sharp look from You-Know-Who, Fred found himself in a world of pain for a few moments. Though he wasn't aware of it, his body twisted and shook and his already scratchy throat burned as he tried to give a voice to the pain. Afterwards, he had to put even more effort into pushing himself off from the dirty and dusty floor.

"Then again, perhaps I should offer something else," that hair-raising voice uttered. "Perhaps it would be best to dispose of you now, rather than wait to do it later. I wonder if you would volunteer for that. It would be the Gryffindor thing to do, would it not?"

"I completely agree, Master," Wormtail's whiny voice piped up.

Fred didn't need to think about whether or not they would follow through on the threat. He knew they would kill him, whether it occurred now or later wasn't the question. He was slightly surprised to find that he wasn't at all upset about it. Instead, he felt detached from the entire encounter, as if it wasn't really happening to him.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do to prevent this fate, he opened his mouth to say something defiant, if only to prove the Gryffindor comment to be true.

When he opened his mouth, however, he heard his voice say something very different from what he intended. "Instead of that, I could do something for you."

There was a pause and then that eerie voice asked, "You would do something for me? You would _serve _me? What, exactly, could you do from here?" As he finished speaking, his tone almost sounded humorous, as if he found the idea preposterous.

Fred thought for a moment. That wasn't at all what he had meant to say, but maybe – just maybe – it would work out for the best. He hoped it would. "If you give me my wand, I could –"

"Ha!" he heard Wormtail laugh nervously. "Master, he just wants an opportunity to escape!"

"My lord, if I may suggest something," that same deep voice that Fred had heard before spoke from a corner of the room. Fred tried to crane his neck to see who it was, but the room was too poorly lit. That voice sounded so familiar, but he couldn't quite attach it to a face that he knew.

"Of course, Severus," You-Know-Who said, elongating the 's' sounds on the other man's name. Fred rolled the name on his tongue for a moment before he suddenly realized who it belonged to.

"If you are willing, I may be able to utilize his assistance in making potions that you require. The boy performed decently in my class and it would advantageous for me if some of the work could be done by him in advance, so that the lengths of my absences wouldn't appear as suspicious," Snape explained, his silky voice attempting to persuade the devil to hire a part-time assistant.

You-Know-Who must have given some sort of silent gesture of confirmation to this suggestion, for Snape suddenly swooped down on Fred and hauled him back up to his feet by the arm. Fred failed to notice over the pain in his arm that Snape hadn't pulled on it more than necessary.

"I'm sure you'll see to it that he's treated enough to keep him alive, Severus," You-Know-Who directed. "And if he tries anything that seems… dishonest… then we can always resort to the first option, can't we?"

"Indeed, my lord," Snape responded.

With that, Fred felt himself being pulled after Snape as the two left the room and walked down a narrow hallway to the stairs. Fred almost groaned at the thought of returning to the room with the dripping noise, even though the dark and repetitive noise would be comforting after this ordeal.

Instead of returning to the same room, Snape led him into a sort of makeshift potions lab. Dazedly, he let himself be seated on a stool next to one of the work tables. Neither of them said a word as Snape began searching out wounds and applying salves and bandages to them. Near the end of the process, Snape finished applying a thin layer of salve over a burn mark and then slammed the jar down, though he did so somewhat quietly. How he managed that, Fred wasn't sure.

The older man narrowed his eyes at the jar and then spoke. His voice was quiet, though it still held the disbelief and outrage that a shout would have held. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking to offer to _serve_ the Dark Lord?"

Fred glanced at him and stated, "He wanted to see a Gryffindor sort of action, so that's what I did. And it worked, didn't it?" He didn't know why, but he felt a strange sort of anger towards his professor. Fred couldn't figure out whether it was due to the fact that the man really was working for You-Know-Who or if it was that he'd had to rely on the greasy git to help spare him from death.

Snape sneered at him and said, "You think what you did just then was a move worthy of a Gryffindor? If anything, it was a distinctly Slytherin tactic for you to try. I would expect to see something like this from a Malfoy, not a Weasley."

That thought sent Fred's mind into a spin, and he wisely chose not to comment on it.

Snape's sneer faded away, only to be replaced by one that screamed 'you are an idiot.' He leaned forward and spoke quietly, "Do you have any idea what you've just done? You've practically signed yourself up for this, and there's no going back from that."

To be perfectly honest, Fred knew it was a horrible idea. All he had done was to prolong his existence for as long as he could make himself useful. He still didn't know for certain why he'd suggested that he _do something_, though he had a pretty good idea of what could have made him say it. It seemed to be the same reason why he kept saying and doing things that he'd never even consider before.

Lost in his thoughts, Fred shook his head to find that Snape had started to speak again in that derisive tone that the man used when someone acted without thinking through the consequences at all.

" – do manage to keep this up, you could end up causing more harm than good for everyone involved, including your friends and family." That simple comment, which Fred knew to be true, made his blood boil.

"Well then why don't you go tell him to finish me off before it gets too out of hand?" Fred snapped back at his professor. "Or, better yet, I'll go tell him myself!" With that he made to jump off the stool so that he could walk back to that room, providing he knew where it was. Right now, he was so angry that he couldn't quite see straight.

His impromptu plan was going well until his feet hit the ground. The second he tried to hold himself up his legs crumpled below him and he fell to the ground with a loud thump and a painful gasp. Snape may have healed many of his hurts but it didn't do anything to compete with the exhaustion and weakness he felt in his muscles.

As he lay on the ground trying to catch his breath, Snape turned and started putting the various bottles he had grabbed back into a tall cabinet. Fred just barely made it back to his knees when the other man grabbed his arm and pulled him up to his feet. Once again, neither spoke as Snape directed them to another room.

He leaned Fred against the wall and went inside a room that vaguely looked like a kitchen, though Fred was too tired to lean over and look through the doorway. After another moment, Snape came back out and, with a tight grip on the younger boy's arm again, led them to a familiar set of stairs. At this point, Fred was so tired that he didn't even bother trying to argue against the inevitable.

Snape opened the door and directed him inside. Almost in relief, Fred sat back down on the ground with his back to the wall. The professor knelt beside him and pulled out a jar of water and several pieces of bread that he must have gotten from the kitchen.

"I should be able to return by tomorrow, but if I don't, then it'll be the next day," Snape said, and Fred almost thought that there wasn't any sort of sarcastic or derisive tone in the man's voice as he spoke. Still, the man's tone wasn't anywhere close to caring or concerned.

Fred semi-consciously felt himself nod in response as the presence of the other man moved away. A few moments later, the door shut and he found himself cloaked in darkness again. He knew that he was going to fall asleep any second. He was too exhausted to eat anything right now, and he actually felt as though he wasn't freezing for a change.

Patiently, he waited until he heard the "all-clear" signal that he had come to rely on. He couldn't explain why, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in this place unless he heard it.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

Fred laughed a bit. "At least they didn't fix it yet," he muttered as he drifted off to sleep in the dark room.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape shut the door slowly after leaving the exhausted teen in the dark. Though these weren't the conditions that he would prefer to leave anyone in, whether or not they were a Weasley, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it right now. Despite that fact, he had cast a light warming charm over the area to make sure that the boy wouldn't get sick from the cold.<p>

He made his way up the stairs and paused before entering the hallway. Wormtail was in the kitchen, if his ears weren't lying to him. Severus quietly walked over to stand in the doorway and watched as the rat-like man, whose personality so perfectly matched his animagus form, snatched up pieces of bread and cheese to make what might have resembled a sandwich in another lifetime.

Just as the blundering idiot was about to take a bite, Severus commented silkily, "See to it that our guest isn't bothered much until I return." At his words, Wormtail jumped and nearly choked on the sandwich as he spun to face the taller man.

"Severus! Why, you know I can't… If he says…" Wormtail stumbled over a few more words before Severus cut him off.

"The boy won't be of much use to me if he's too ill or injured to work. Therefore, I need him to be in a remotely good condition when I return," he explained as if speaking to a particularly slow child.

Wormtail seemed to get the picture and nodded briefly, losing a piece of cheese that had been hanging from his mouth. Severus sneered in disgust and spun to leave the dingy kitchen. Behind him, he heard Wormtail hasten to clean the mess, as if it mattered that he'd made one in the filthy building as it was.

Once he was outside, he spun on the spot and apparated to the Forbidden Forest. Walking back through the forest, which was still dark despite the amount of sunlight that would be out at this hour. The treetops weren't about to let anything as trivial as sunshine through to touch the forest floor.

He sighed in relief as he made his way up to the headmaster's office, glad that no one had seen him or tried to stop him to talk. No matter how unapproachable he made himself seem, several staff members (such as Minerva or Hagrid) continued to believe that they would someday be able to hold a conversation with him that would be a pleasant experience. Severus nearly rolled his eyes at the mere idea.

As he reached the gargoyle and uttered the password (Milky Way), he found himself pausing. He vaguely hoped that Arthur Weasley had returned to his home by now. It would be much harder to give an accurate and detailed report while trying to hide his role as a spy from the man. Just as the staircase brought him in front of Dumbledore's office door, he silently cursed the Weasley twins for recklessly accelerating his involvement with the Dark Lord in this second war.

He gave a brief knock on the door, after which he didn't bother waiting for a response, and then walked in. He noted thankfully that Arthur had apparently decided to return home. Albus met his gaze as Severus walked to one of the chairs in front of the old man's desk and sat down. He noticed that he wasn't offered a sweet this time.

Not wanting to wait to be questioned, Severus launched into the first part of his report. With more than a bit of distaste at having to admit it, he stated, "The Potter boy's dream was accurate. Bertha Jorkins was killed by the Dark Lord a short while ago, as was an old muggle earlier this evening. I'm afraid that her disappearance wasn't as random as we would have hoped. He didn't say anything specific, but hinted several times about game and sport events that need to be planned for."

Albus nodded, the sparkle in his eyes having faded away much earlier in the night. "He intends to cause a stir at the World Cup then…"

"And possibly another event, though he didn't mention any particular details," Severus added.

Once again, the old man nodded and then gazed at Severus over his glasses. "What about Arthur's son, Fred?"

Severus all but snorted in response to Albus' question and, at the look he then received, explained, "The idiot boy all but bartered for his life by offering to _help _the Dark Lord. I don't believe he entirely understands what that entails…"

At those words, Albus took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Did his actions seem strange to you? Did they seem out of place?"

Severus stopped to consider the idea and then replied, "Indeed; some of the things he said and did seemed to possess an almost Slytherin quality. I assume it's being caused by the stress, for I've never seen him retaliate so angrily like he did tonight. It's almost as if something else entirely was affecting him."

"Something else is affecting him, though we're not sure what," Albus stated. He then began to describe the potion that the two boys had made and what had led up to Fred's abduction.

Severus tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair for a moment after Albus finished explaining this potion and then commented, "That explains why he'd offer to work for the Dark Lord."

Albus nodded and then asked, "Do you think you'll be able to reverse it, if you were able to get a list of ingredients that they used?"

"Yes," Severus nodded, "though it may be completely unnecessary. The Dark Lord mentioned using the boy during whatever chaos he intends to let loose at the World Cup."

The two men were quiet for a moment before Albus noted quietly, "The Cup is being held in two days."

"Hopefully the fool won't volunteer to do anything for it," Severus growled out, honestly hoping that the captured teen wouldn't make this more difficult than it needed to be. He somehow doubted that he'd be that lucky, however.

**Review?**

**So, what did everyone think of the Deathly Hallows part 2? I haven't seen it yet and I hate theatres, so I'm debating whether I want to go spend money on it. Sxcsami told me that there's a lot of Severus (YAY) in there so that's at least something to look forward to. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Wow the reviews were amazing! I'll try to reply – let me know if this just ends up being annoying. If you'd rather me put them on my profile page or something, let me know :)_

_Thanks for the info about the movie! I'm excited to go see it! I'll need to find a "theatre-near-me" and go watch. To those of you that are wondering about the potion, the effects, the lack of action… I hope this chapter helps solve a bit of that. More will be cleared up about that pesky potion later on. _

_TeamGredandForge – I'm glad you like my rendition of Snape! I need to grab a thesaurus! Drat that man and his extensive vocabulary! _

_lol Lucy – I'm not sure if I should promise that Fred will live through this story… Do you think the rest of the readers would be upset if I killed him off in the next chapter?_

_Amanda – I was wondering if it would seem believable or not – I'm having a hard time showing how this potion's affecting him. I can't wait until Snape fixes it! In any event, if you have any ideas, let me know! I am very open to suggestion on this topic so I can make it as good as I can! _

**Chapter Eleven**

George was frozen in place in the hallway outside Ron's room. It seemed as if no one really knew what to do after their dad left. Harry stayed as still as possible with his head bowed low, sitting on Ron's bed. Ron stood nearby with Hermione at his side, both of them silently conversing about what had just happened. George's mum sat next to Harry; one of her hands rested on his back while the other hand covered her mouth to help quell her shock, though George wasn't aware yet of what exactly had been said that would affect her so much. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to know what the black-haired teen had said, either.

Bill seemed to think that someone should say or do something to try and comfort their mother. He said something to Charlie that George didn't catch and then walked into Ron's room. Charlie glanced at George and then walked down the stairs. As he watched Bill put a hand on their mum's shoulder, George faintly heard the familiar sounds of the tea kettle being set up. Meanwhile, Mum had looked up at Bill and nodded at whatever he'd just said. With a reassuring, though slightly preoccupied, pat to Harry's back, she stood and followed Bill down to the kitchen.

Percy moved past George to walk into Ron's room and sit on the bed, although he didn't sit right next to Harry like his mum had. Even though George knew Percy was probably just as worried as everyone else, he saw that his brother still sat up properly and tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

The silence of the room suddenly seemed uncomfortable, and Hermione leaned towards Harry and quietly asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry shook his head slowly as he stared at the floor. The teen looked paler than even Snape, and George wasn't sure if that was even possible. A sudden urge came over him to find out what Harry had said and the second it hit him, his feet leapt from their frozen position and brought him to stand before Harry.

"What did you say?" George asked abruptly.

Harry looked up at him and shook his head as he replied, "I didn't say anything."

"No, before... What did you say before Dad left?" George clarified as a sense of anxiety started to claw at him. He needed to hear that it was something unrelated to them and, in particular, unrelated to Fred.

Harry bit his lip, knowing that George wouldn't like what he'd heard in his dream, or vision, or whatever it had been. He looked down, not able to meet the intense look George was giving him, and repeated, "He – Voldemort – he mentioned that he…" Harry trailed off, not sure if he wanted to paraphrase or use the exact words that he'd heard. George's stare never left his face, and he finished despite himself, "he said he had one of the Weasleys. He wasn't sure what to do with him…"

George didn't move from the position he was in. Harry's words washed over him and slowly started to sink in. The implications they carried made George feel as if he would drown in them, and he could almost imagine the waves sweeping over him as each possibility formed a terrible and unwanted image in his mind.

He sucked in a tense breath and then quickly questioned Harry, needing to know more about what the boy had seen and heard. "Where are they? Did you see who was there? What about Fred? Did you see him?" He would have launched off several other questions if not for the glares he was receiving from the others in the room.

"George," Percy said carefully, "Dad's gone off to –"

"I don't care what Dad's doing, I want to know!" George shouted, strongly enunciating his words to show how frustrated he was with not knowing what was going on.

Before Percy could come up with a response, Harry looked back up and said, "I don't know where they are; it was some old building, but I didn't recognize anything. I know Voldemort was there," He explained, and then his expression darkened before he finished, "and that rat, Wormtail. I didn't see Fred, I'm sorry."

Harry's quiet and unwarranted apology was ignored by George, who was intent on finding out more about what Harry had seen. Once again he faced Harry and asked, his voice getting louder and louder as he went, "What else was there? Did you see anything written down? What else did they talk about?" George rattled the questions off quickly while Harry shook his head nervously and stuttered out a few words. Percy stood up as if to stop George's barrage of questions and when George just spoke right over him, Hermione took a step towards him.

When she was about five inches away from him, she ground out, "I know that you're worried, George, but this isn't going to help anything. Let Dumbledore talk –"

"I just want…" George stopped there. He felt tears prick at his eyes and blinked quickly to try and dispel them. "I want to help. I want… I want him back…" He barely noticed the expressions on their faces change from defensive to somber. He turned around to leave, realizing that he was quickly losing the battle to keep his haywire emotions in check.

Percy reached out a hand to stop him from leaving and the second he touched him, George spun and had to physically refrain from hitting his brother.

"Don't touch me!" George shouted at him, completely aware that the anger was there to try and hide his despair. Not wanting to permanently dent his older brother's face, he lashed out and threw a fist at Ron's bedroom door. He didn't feel any pain as the wood under his knuckles broke apart. Grabbing the door with his other hand and flinging it all the way open, George stepped out hastily and started to head to his and Fred's room, paying no mind at the moment to how hard it was to be in there without his twin.

He'd made it barely two steps up the stairs before Bill's voice cut through his turbulent thoughts. It took everything he had to just stop where he was and to not turn around and rage at his eldest brother.

"George, what…" Bill started to ask, and then he must have seen his brother's hand. "What happened to your hand?"

George clenched the bloodied fist and pulled it in front of him as he replied, "Nothing."

He heard a sigh behind him and then Bill came to stand next to him so that he could actually look at his brother's face. "George, it's okay to be upset. We're not going to hold it against you. You know that, right?"

He didn't know how Bill always managed to de-escalate tense situations. Maybe it was the tone of his voice? George wasn't sure, but though a part of him was thankful, another part of him really did want to rage and destroy something.

"I know," he answered faintly, not ready to admit to what he'd been thinking. "I just… I want to be alone for a bit." George didn't look at Bill as he said it. He felt more than saw his brother nod and then he resumed his escape up to his room.

The second he walked in and shut the door, he knew he'd made the wrong decision. It was too hard to be alone in this room, knowing that his twin wouldn't be walking in right behind him after, at most, a few moments. Wearily, George sat down on his bed and pulled his knees up to his chest, staring across the room at Fred's bed.

With a forlorn sigh, he lowered his head so that it rested on his knees while trying to fool himself into believing that he wasn't crying. It didn't work.

It was so hard to not have Fred with him. He didn't think he could count the number of times that he had grinned in relief as he looked into one of the household mirrors, turned around to see his brother, and then had to contain the anger he felt at falling for the same trick again. George considered it a miracle that he hadn't broken all the mirrors in the house out of frustration already. He had come very close to doing so the first night he'd been back and, as a result, had been avoiding looking in anything reflective. It dawned on him that he probably looked a lot messier than usual, which may be one of the reasons why his mum had come up to him with a comb the previous morning.

George wished more than anything that he knew where his brother was. He knew now who he was with, and that didn't make the separation any easier. If anything, it made it more… permanent. He shuddered at the idea and raked his hands through his hair in anxiety. He didn't want to even think about it in those terms. There had to be a chance that Fred could come back – nothing was impossible, after all, especially with magic.

Despite the effort to think positively and imagine the good things that could happen, his mind conjured up terrible images of what-if situations. What if they found Fred and he was too injured or otherwise affected. What if they found him and it had simply been too late and he had…? George's shoulders shook, unable to even _think_ the end of that question. What if they never found him? What if they never learned what became of the missing Weasley twin? George would live out his life and never be able to stop searching, because without a confirmation that he could see and touch, he would never be able to believe that he was completely alone.

A sharp pang stung the top of his head and he realized that he was pulling his hair out. Part of him didn't care much that he now had a few hairs less while another part wanted to rip the rest of them out. George breathed in the familiar scents of the room and lifted his head up, wiping his face on his sleeves. As he surveyed his surroundings, taking in the piles of clothes and joke product successes and failures, he realized something. He needed to be _doing _something. George knew for certain that if he sat here forever and worried about Fred, that he would end up in St. Mungo's psychiatric ward for the 'wildly wailing and wiggling weird ones,' as Fred had once dubbed it.

As he glanced around, his eyes came to rest on a small box hidden under Fred's bed. His head tilted curiously and he considered the usefulness of the items inside the box, if only he could get them to work. He hesitated only a moment before leaping off the bed and pulling the small box out.

George didn't check, but he figured that he'd spent several hours working in his room. He had progressed slowly, finding it very difficult to come up with new strategies to try without having Fred there to bounce them off of. Regardless of that fact, he'd thrown himself into the work in a way that would have made Hermione proud, if only it had been school work. He loathed to pause as a sudden knock sounded on his door but stood up to answer it after pushing his work back under Fred's bed.

He expected the visitor to be Bill, or maybe his mum, and was therefore completely surprised when the headmaster himself was stood in front of his room, staring at him over the old man's ever-present half-moon glasses.

Dumbledore smiled at him in a grandfatherly sort of way. "You seem surprised to see me here, my boy."

George nodded dumbly and then regained his senses enough to ask, "Would you, er, like to come in, sir?" It wasn't the best offer he'd ever made, but he went with it and moved to let the older wizard in. Dumbledore nodded pleasantly and walked into the small room, moving to sit on George's bed. The teen breathed a sigh of relief that the headmaster hadn't chosen to sit on Fred's bed; George wasn't sure what he'd do if that had happened.

"Your father came to speak with me earlier, as I'm sure you're aware," Dumbledore said, sounding as if he was merely discussing today's forecast. George nodded in response, wanting to ask about what they'd spoken of but refrained since he didn't trust himself to communicate clearly yet.

"Of the things that we discussed, one in particular caught my attention. I am speaking, of course, of the potion that you and your brother developed," Dumbledore explained, looking at George with an appraising smile. "Professor Snape even seemed intrigued by it, and he requested that I get a copy of your notes. Perhaps we could even find a way to reverse its effects…"

George looked down and considered this. He highly doubted that Snape would take an interest in anything he and Fred created. That old bat could out-stir anyone and didn't seem the type to trade notes and ideas. Besides that, what good would an antidote of any form be when Fred wasn't here to receive it? Getting more and more discouraged, George shook his head lightly.

"Sir, I don't…" he started to say, then paused and tried again, even though it crushed him to say it out loud. "I mean, it's not like it'd be any use to him… if we found some sort of antidote, that is…"

Dumbledore cut him off by saying, "Hope and faith go hand in hand to provide possibilities and, if you take one or the other away, then those possibilities will also disappear before your eyes."

Nodding along, George stood up and walked to the desk and pushed aside a few papers, growing impatient after a moment when he didn't find what he was looking for. Just as he was about to start throwing papers off his desk, a voice piped up from the hallway.

"George?" It was Hermione. "I hope you don't mind; I was thinking earlier when Headmaster Dumbledore arrived and thought these might be useful for him to look at as well," she said, and in her hands were several pieces of parchment. On them was a list of ingredients he and Fred had used, as well as a slightly confused series of processes that they may have tried.

He smiled at her and motioned for her to give them to the headmaster. Dumbledore waved his wand over them and made a copy for himself as he said, "I'm sure you'll be wanting a copy of your own to study, won't you, Miss Granger?" Even from across the room, George could tell that the old man's eyes were twinkling. Hermione smiled shyly and nodded, retreating back out of the room.

The headmaster made as if to leave but stopped at the door and turned to look back in, eyes resting on a place near George's feet for a moment. George almost thought that Dumbledore's gaze had been directed towards the box under Fred's bed that had distracted the teen for a good portion of the morning. Before he could comment though, Dumbledore lifted his eyes to meet George's.

"I once traveled to America, did you know that?" Dumbledore said nonchalantly.

Caught off guard by the comment, George merely shook his head in response. He wondered absentmindedly if he'd actually say sort of complete sentence to the elderly wizard prior to his departure.

"I was introduced to quite an amiable wizard who loved to play a muggle sport known as 'golf.' Thinking it to be a simple game to master, I decided to give it a try. I failed spectacularly at it and my companion was only slightly better." Dumbledore smiled and shook his head before continuing, "After a while, we reached a point which required a good deal of skill, or luck, as was the case with us, to pull off. I took a shot and, naturally, the little golf ball went flying into a pond. Do you know what my friend did?"

George shook his head, wondering where the headmaster was going with this. Harry had said before that he liked to tell stories as analogies in the form of advice, but George wasn't seeing how this connected to him at all.

"He proceeded to engage me in a long conversation about muggle automobiles, telling me about the different kinds and what they held in store for the country. After a while of such talk, I grew impatient and asked why he was stalling. He laughed and held his golf club in front of him and said, a bit animatedly, 'All things come to him who waits, provided he knows what he is waiting for.' He then explained that the wind had finally passed on, made his shot, and avoided the pond entirely," Dumbledore said, smiling and clasping his hands before him.

It sort of made sense. Sort of. George wasn't entirely sure, but nodded in response nonetheless. "Thank you, sir," he said, though he must have sounded as confused as he looked.

Dumbledore smiled even more and his eyes twinkled at George before he asked, "Do you know what you're waiting for?"

George figured the answer to this was obvious. He was waiting for Fred to come back. Just as he was about to say as much, he thought on it a bit more. Sure, he was waiting for Fred, but that wasn't what he was most anxiously waiting for. No, he was waiting for a chance to do something that could bring Fred back.

Looking up at the old wizard, George nodded and replied quietly but with strength, "Yes, I do."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled again and said, "Very good, very good…" With that, the headmaster made his way back down the winding stairs of the Burrow. George watched him go and, after a few moments of consideration, resumed his work on the contents of the box under Fred's bed.

* * *

><p>"Idiot Weasleys…" Severus muttered to himself.<p>

He'd been sitting at the desk in his office for the last hour reviewing the notes that the Granger girl had compiled about the potion that those two rambunctious redheads had concocted. The mistake that they made was simple enough to understand, however, the remedy for such an error would take time to develop.

He tossed the pieces of parchment onto his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. Today would be an excruciatingly long day, if the rumors he'd heard panned out. In a few short hours, the mayhem known as the Quidditch World Cup would start off and, following that, great potential for disaster, if what Albus speculated came to light.

Severus stood and stretched, picking up his quickly-cooling mug of coffee that he'd been nursing most of the night. He'd wisely chosen a bold cup of coffee over the stronger whiskey to help calm his frayed nerves. Seeing the Dark Lord alive and active, despite the fact that he was little more than a wraith at the moment, was more disquieting than Severus wished to admit. Needless to say, sleep had been rather elusive that night.

Throwing back the last dregs of the lukewarm liquid, he stepped quietly over to his lab where he kept many of his potions ingredients. A few specimens were needed that would require a decent amount of time and energy to sort so as to make them into proper potions ingredients. Severus levitated a small box of various fish whose scales needed to be removed, among other things.

Adding a feather-light charm, Severus carried the box under his arm and headed out of his quarters to go meet with the devil again. Just before he actually left the castle, he sent his patronus with a message to Albus so that the old codger would know where he'd gone to. He quietly watched as the silvery doe bounded away from him and, when it turned a corner and was seen no more, he opened the great door and walked down the grassy hills towards the Forbidden Forest.

Apparating away to the Dark Lord's current stronghold was easier than Severus wished it to be. He despised how easily this role was in coming back to him. It had been thirteen years since he'd truly had to lead two lives, act in ways becoming of two personalities, and live to please not one, but two, crazed old men. Not for the first time that day did he wonder if he was getting too old for this.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind where they wouldn't cause more trouble for him, he moved towards the decrepit house in which the Dark Lord resided. As he stepped inside, he immediately noticed that something was different. There had been someone else here, other than Wormtail and the Weasley fool. Keeping a constant ear out for this new guest, Severus made his way to the room where the Dark Lord spent all his time.

The door creaked as he pushed it open and he barely paused to check that the Dark Lord was there before he knelt in a display of respect.

"My lord, I hope you are well," he greeted with a level voice, not letting an ounce of his dislike for the creature before him show in his words.

"Severusss," the Dark Lord responded, dragging out his name with a hiss, "it is good to see you returning so promptly, though I am unaware as to why…"

"I have brought a few ingredients that need to be sorted, my lord," Severus explained, holding the box before him as further explanation.

"Excellent, Severusss… Be sure the blood traitor does an exceptional job on them…"

Taking that as a cue that he could leave, Severus bowed low again and then stood. Just before he reached the door though, the Dark Lord's voice broke in through his thoughts. "One more thing," the conniving voice rang out, "be sure that you are available tonight. We have quite a bit of… excitement planned…"

Severus nodded and replied, "Yes, of course, my lord." He bowed once again and turned to leave. If he'd needed further confirmation that the Dark Lord was planning something for the World Cup, then he'd just received it. He made a mental note to inform Albus as soon as he discovered anything more concrete about the plans.

In the meantime, however, he needed to set a certain Weasley to work so that the idiot teenager would stay out of trouble, if only for today. Severus carried the box of fishes down to the makeshift laboratory which was nowhere near the level he was accustomed to working in. He set the box on the table and continued on to the door leading downstairs. With any luck, the Weasley boy had eaten the food that had been left for him and had managed evade Wormtail's attention in the long hours since Severus had left him here.

The door creaked slightly as it opened and Severus looked in to see the captive boy resting against the wall. The spy noted with a feigned disinterest that the bread and water were mostly gone now. Standing tall and adopting a more intimidating appearance, Severus barked out at the boy to get up.

"Weasley!" At that, the teen jumped awake and stood shakily. Though he didn't outwardly show it, Severus was thankful that the boy was at least able to stand on his own now.

"Professor…" The teen rubbed his eyes blearily as he looked around, waiting for memories of why he was in such a dark and unwelcoming place to return to him.

"You'll be coming with me," Severus stated, opening the door to the boy's cell. "Since you seemed so anxious to _help_, I have brought a few things for you to sort." Right as he said it, Severus thought he saw a flicker of something different in the boy's expression before it vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

With a wave of his hand, Severus directed the Weasley boy up the stairs. Before reaching the laboratory room, Severus pushed him into a bathroom and shut the door. The teen had looked surprised but quickly took advantage of the opportunity. On the other side of the door, Severus heard the water being turned on and splashed about a bit. He only granted a couple of minutes for the stop though, since he didn't want to deal with Wormtail in the event that the filthy rat came to investigate.

After opening the door and motioning for the boy to follow, Severus led them to the room where his potions ingredients were. As the Weasley boy found a stool and pulled it up to the table, Severus thought about how the boy was acting. From what he'd heard from Dumbledore, as well as what he'd inferred from the anticipated effects he saw in the potion that the boys had made, he had expected more violent or disagreeable behavior. So far, all he'd seen was the rather uncharacteristic display of the boy throwing his supposed morals to the wind to save himself. And that, Severus knew, wasn't so uncommon when one was confronted with an entity as evil as the Dark Lord.

Aside from that occurrence, the boy seemed a bit more argumentative, but he hadn't really reacted violently. Severus watched him peripherally and noted that the boy was staring at the table and staying still. Perhaps that was another indicator? The fact that the boy wasn't attempting to pull jokes or cause some enjoyment to laugh at was different, though that could just be attributed to the fact that he didn't have his twin brother next to him.

Severus wanted to see more of these reactions that had led to the boy's arrival to the Dark Lord's current lair. Though he knew it could be dangerous if he goaded the boy into doing something foolish, he secretly admitted that he was more curious of this potion's effects. He set the box down in front of the teen and glared at him with one of his many infamous looks.

"You will be removing the scales from these fish and sorting them according to size and color," Severus instructed quietly. "When you have finished, you will remove the eyes and place them in this jar," he said, holding out a large jar, "and fill it with a preservative potion once it is full."

The boy nodded in response and said quickly, "Would you like me to also make fish and chips for dinner?"

Severus had to refrain from cuffing the boy about the head and settled on leveling a glare across the table.

"What you do for dinner is your concern and none of mine, Mr. Weasley," Snape replied coolly. "Though you may be hard-pressed to find anything beyond these fish tonight…" He'd said it as more of a taunt in response to the boy's lip than anything else, and yet, the idiot read into and leaned forward to question him.

"Why? Is something going on tonight?" The teen asked curiously.

"Why?" Severus countered, "Do you wish to volunteer for something else, as well?"

He watched in interest as the boy bit his lip and looked to the side, almost as if he was embarrassed or trying not to say something. Finally, he looked back to Severus and answered, "No, I… I didn't mean –"

Severus cut him off with a derisive snort and said, "So, you've had time to consider just where it is that you're standing, have you? Just think how proud everyone will be. Your family will be thrilled to hear that one of their own has betrayed everything they believe in just to further his own existence."

A shadow passed over the boy's face which closely resembled fear before the teen responded heatedly, "If they're that upset about it then they can just forget about me and move on then, can't they?"

Though the words were said with conviction, Severus saw the uneasy look that crossed onto the boy's face after that. It was as if he was fighting to say one thing, but when he actually tried to say it, something completely different came out. Severus shook his head and the two worked quietly for a few minutes.

Just before Severus decided to leave, the teen asked him a question in a tone that suggested that they hadn't just been arguing a few minutes before. That kind of behavior coming from a Gryffindor really was strange…

"What day is today?" Came the unexpected question.

Severus glared at him meaningfully, not entirely used to how the boy was acting. The Weasley twins, while not the most well-behaved students, were at least respectful and not intentionally rude, even though most of their respect was given in the form of jokes and pranks.

The boy somehow refrained from rolling his eyes and repeated, "What day is it today, _sir_?"

"Today is the 22nd of August," Severus answered. "The World Cup is being held this afternoon."

A moment of thoughtful silence and then, "Are you going?"

Severus knew what that question entailed. The boy was asking if the Dark Lord had anything planned. Not wanting to even broach that topic, Severus said, "Enough talk. Get to work, Mr. Weasley."

The boy peeled a few scales from a brightly colored fish and then looked up and knowingly said, "There is something happening, or else you'd deny it. What's going to –"

"Mr. Weasley, it would behoove you to learn to curb your curiosity," Severus cut him off, his quiet voice sounding more forceful than if he had shouted.

He almost didn't hear the teen mutter, "And it would behoove you to not be a greasy git as well…" He _almost _didn't hear it.

"Just in case," Severus said, adding a good amount of contempt to his voice, "why don't we make sure that you'll be too busy to get into any trouble tonight. Remove and organize the fins as well as the teeth by size."

Severus spun around and marched out of the room, leaving a glaring Weasley teen behind. At least this would ensure that the boy didn't begin to think that the evil bat of the dungeons _liked_ him. Severus shivered in distaste at the thought of a Gryffindor finding his presence enjoyable. He much preferred to not get attached to anything that could easily be affected by the Dark Lord.

* * *

><p>While Fred was dissecting various types of fish, George was sleeping uncomfortably on the floor of his room, having finally given in to the exhaustion he felt. He dreamt of Fred and the reunion that he hoped for so much. In his dream, Fred appeared next to George's side on the grounds at Hogwarts. George felt so excited to see his twin and tried to talk to him, to say anything, but he couldn't. It was as if his voice had been taken away and not only that, it seemed that he couldn't hear Fred either. They were caught in a cycle of trying to communicate and misunderstanding as the world swept by around them. From afar, the two could hear loud crashes, as if the trees of the Forbidden Forest were being torn down. George frantically tried to tell his twin where to go while Fred did the same, but they never moved from the spot because they couldn't understand. The crashing sounds came closer and closer until –<p>

George sat up abruptly and looked around dazedly at his and Fred's room. His brow furrowed at the memory of the strange dream until a loud knock echoed through the air. Startled once again, George leapt up to answer it, feeling the aches in his back and legs from sleeping on the hard floor.

He opened the door to see Bill and Charlie standing in the hallway. Yawning slightly, he asked them, "Where's the fire?"

Bill shook his head and smiled a little while Charlie replied, "You'd better get ready soon – Dad's taking you and everyone else that can't apparate yet up to meet the Diggorys."

George, once again thoroughly confused, questioned, "What?"

Bill answered with a bit less excitement than Charlie appeared to have. "Mum and Dad weren't sure if they would go or not, given the circumstances, but they decided that we all need to get out for a bit. We're going to the Quidditch World Cup. Remember us talking about it before?"

George honestly didn't remember having talked about it recently, though he did recall a conversation he'd had with Fred a number of times concerning the bets that the two wanted to place. His shoulders slumped at the thought that he'd be going without Fred. "Bill, I don't know if I want to go…"

Charlie gave him a look and asked, "Seriously? Come on, if not for your benefit, than for Mum's." Bill threw Charlie a look but didn't say anything to deny the others' words.

George hated it when they used that card.

Despite how he felt about it all, he let his older brothers come in and pack him a few clothes and things to take with them and then followed as they pulled him down the stairs. Once he'd arrived downstairs, he found an exhausted-looking group consisting of Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were also assembled with small bags to take with them. Without comment, he watched as his dad stood before them and smiled encouragingly.

"Alright, Weasleys!" He said, and then looked at Harry and Hermione. "And honorary Weasleys! We've got a Portkey to catch and we don't want to be late, so be sure to keep up and stay with me!"

George waited as his mum came around to give each of them a hug and the random warning to stay out of trouble. Of course, she didn't deem it necessary to say such a thing to Percy, though the boy still said that he would help keep everyone in line. George rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to pick on Percy, but stopped halfway through when he remembered that no one was there to finish the joke. He bit his lip to refrain from cursing that fact.

She gave him an extra-long hug and held onto his arm for a moment as she double-checked that his dad had the tickets. After seeing them waving in Arthur's hand, she ushered them out of the Burrow with the instructions to have a good time and to be safe.

Seeing as it was ridiculously early, George wasn't surprised that the four youngest of the group were very quiet during the trek up to the Portkey. He noticed that Percy hadn't said anything to him at all that morning and George suddenly felt a bit guilty about yelling at his brother the previous night. This feeling was followed by a smile over how much Fred would balk at George feeling sorry for Percy.

George sped up a bit and paced next to Percy as they trudged up a grassy hill. Neither boy said anything for a moment until George finally built up enough courage to say, "Sorry about last night, Perce. I shouldn't have snapped at you and the others… I just…"

Percy nodded and replied, "I know." George was thankful that Percy had spared him from having to finish the entire apology. A moment passed and then Percy said, "Dad's worried."

"Of course he is," George said, but Percy shook his head.

"Not just about Fred – he's worried about today and all of us being at the Cup. He's worried something may happen," Percy explained quietly. George didn't respond, choosing instead to speculate about what their father could possibly be worrying about this time. As they approached the Diggorys at the top of a hill, he found himself holding onto his wand in anticipation.

* * *

><p>George almost laughed at the irony. The game had played out just as he and Fred had been planning to bet that it would. Ireland won the game while Krum was the one to catch the snitch. At first, he shook his head with frustration at the thought of how much money they could have made from that bet. Later, he would be thankful that he hadn't bet, seeing as how Ludo Bagman's money wasn't worth a thing anyways.<p>

The Weasleys (and honorary Weasleys) sat in their tents and talked about the game, even reenacting parts of it that they had especially liked. George hadn't felt like joining in the reenactments, but eventually did as it involves throwing a quaffle (a pillow) at Percy repeatedly. Percy had complained loudly and then, when no one was looking, whacked George over the head with the pillow without taking his eyes from his book. The action elicited a short laugh from George, one that he hadn't heard since before Fred had disappeared.

A short while later found them finally settling down enough to go to bed. George lied down on his cot and stretched out, his mind drifting over the events of the day. They had nearly had a run-in with the Malfoys and those around them had been worried that sparks would fly, literally. George all but pulled his wand out and fired off a few hexes when he saw the blonde family in the seats, stopped only by the level of restraint his father was able to show.

It seemed as if the Malfoys didn't want to cause a scene either, for they disappeared halfway through the game. George tracked their movement as they left, missing a fantastic Wronski Feint that was being played out.

He had barely drifted to sleep when he was woken up by Bill and Charlie, as well as a great deal of shrieking and screaming going on outside. At first, he thought that it was just a riot that had developed due to post-game partying, but the sounds he was hearing didn't sound like any sort of party he would want to join.

His dad pulled them all outside and directed him and the four younger children to go to the trees and wait while his dad, Bill, Charlie, and Percy went to see what was happening. Together with Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, he ran for the woods. They got a bit ahead of him, since he kept turning around to see what was happening. He caught up to them only to find that Draco Malfoy was there to taunt them.

As he paused by them, he heard Draco say, "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to – trying to rescue the Muggles?" The blonde wizard smirked at them as he leant casually against a tree.

George heard Harry make a comment about Draco's parents being part of the crowd that was terrorizing the Muggles and then the thoughts in his mind clicked together. Draco's parents were out there. Lucius Malfoy was out there. He was the reason why Fred was missing. George felt the anger grow inside him and he turned and gazed upon the fires that shot up around the tents. He clenched his wand in his hand and, without a backward glance, bolted back towards the mayhem with one goal in his mind: to find a way to get Fred back.

He darted between the escaping guests that were making their way towards the trees. As he got closer to the tents, he slowed down enough so that he could see what was around him. George reached a vacated tent and stood behind it to catch his breath. As he peeked out, he saw several men in masks and dark cloaks firing off curses at various bystanders.

George clutched his wand out before him and moved to jump out from behind the tent to join in, but was stopped by a strong hand on his other arm. He turned to see who had snuck up on him and raised his eyebrows at Percy.

"George! What are you doing here?" Percy shouted over the roar of fires and terrified screams.

George sighed and then replied, "I've got to do something."

"Come on, George. Leave this to Dad and the aurors," Percy pleaded, trying to pull his brother away. George shook his head and started to protest when the tent they were standing next to burst in flames.

The two Weasleys jumped away from it and looked around frantically until they saw one of the masked men pointing his wand at them and chanting off a powerful curse. The two boys blocked it and attempted to fire off their own curses and hexes.

After a moment of throwing spells back and forth, the man grinned and said, "So this is where you've been hiding."

George growled out, "What are you talking about, scum? We were just waiting for you to figure it out – took you long enough!"

The man sneered at him and replied in between hexes, "You sound so confidant, as if you can actually beat me…"

The three shot off a few more curses and hexes before the man added to his last statement.

"Granted," he laughed, "your twin sounded pretty confidant too…"

At that, George froze and stared at the man before him as Percy fought to cover both of them now that George was unresponsive. His mind dwelled on the possibilities that were implied by what the man said, but George hardly paid them any mind as a fierce anger roared up behind his eyes.

Before he could act though, an echoing blast knocked both him and Percy off their feet. George's anger grew even more as the man laughed loudly and turned to run down the path away from them.

"Boys! What are you… George, what are you doing here?" Their father asked worriedly as he ran up behind them.

Percy had just gotten to his feet and started to explain when George took the opportunity to bolt after the masked man. He had every intention to find him and find out _exactly_ what he meant concerning Fred. George hardly heard his father and brother yelling for him to stop as he chased the other man through the tents and fired off every hex and curse he could think of.

* * *

><p>Fred vowed that he would never eat another fish for as long as he lived. He didn't think he'd ever forget the smell of fish as he pulled off scales, cut off fins, and gouged out the eyes so that they could be used as potions ingredients. At several points during the day, he thought that he might be sick from the smell, and he found himself slightly thankful that there wasn't enough food in him to really get sick.<p>

It didn't help much that Wormtail had decided to sit in the room so that he could supervise the teen's work. Fred had firmly kept his mouth shut so as not to cause trouble for himself. Despite what he'd said to Snape, he did see the sense in keeping a low profile, no matter how hard that would be in this place.

He almost didn't notice as Wormtail jumped up and scampered out of the room. Fred thought he heard something going on down the hall, but he wasn't certain and wasn't about to get up and investigate it. The choice was made for him a few minutes later as Snape walked into the laboratory.

The dungeon bat hovered over his work for barely a moment before placing a spell on the parts he'd not yet sorted and then used his wand to put away the ones he had. Without a word, he motioned for Fred to get up and follow him. Just before they reached the doorway, Fred heard a terrible scream echo through the building. It raised the hairs on his neck and he couldn't help but crane his head towards where it was coming from.

Snape grabbed him and yanked him down the hallway. The screaming continued and Fred listened to it waver and change in intensity every few seconds. They weren't yet to the door that led downstairs to his cell. Just before reaching it, he thought he heard the screaming voice shout something out, but Fred couldn't tell what the voice said.

He paused as Snape opened the door and leaned back to listen further, but Snape pushed him to go down the stairs. With a solemn expression, Snape said, "You don't want to bear witness to this."

Fred made his way downstairs and let himself be led into the cell where he was made to stay. Still, he could hear the screaming echoing through the large building. Snape said something else to him, but he didn't hear it enough to be able to respond. He sat, still and quiet in the dark, and listened to the screams that punctured the silence around him. Those sounds were accompanied by the barely audible dripping sound that he'd grown so familiar with.

As he sat and listened, he couldn't help but puzzle over the sound of the voice. Something about it… He wasn't sure why, but it sounded like he'd heard it before, especially when whomever it was had shouted earlier. Fred tilted his head back to lean it against the wall and pondered the new arrival. He wondered if they would meet or if the new voice would die from all of the screaming. He hoped the newcomer would still be able to speak. It would be a shame to gain a companion that couldn't talk. Fred shrugged, figuring that it didn't much matter if they couldn't communicate.

It didn't occur to him until much later that the sound of the newcomer's screaming should probably trouble and disturb him, rather than make him curious.

**Wow that was a long chapter to write… Wanna review it? **

**Help the author! I need ideas – what was George working on? I'll bake white chocolate macadamia nut cookies in your honor if you give me a really good idea! :)**

**I'll even save a cookie if you know who the quote that Dumbledore used was from.**

**And – gasp – who on earth has been abducted NOW? Goodness, at this rate, I'm going to kill off everyone ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Thank you to everyone that reviewed! Your reviews really make me smile and I can't tell you how much I appreciate every one of them! Keep reviewing! :)_

_I have to give a special shout-out to CrystalClearwaterzinmoonlight (goodness gracious that's a long name) for the idea for dancing drops! :) I wanna go get some!_

_TeamGredandForge – lol I love writing/reading Snape speech – I feel like every time I write or read him, I learn a new word :)_

**Chapter Twelve**

Neither he nor George had ever made it a habit to go around and make their friends and acquaintances scream, just to see what each of their screams sounded like. Sure, they had pulled a few pranks which had garnered a few startled shouts and the occasional enraged screaming, which usually was provided by their mother once she learned of the tricks they had played.

He certainly knew the differences between the screams and frustrated shouts of his mum and his young sister. While Mum had the ability to sound angry, disappointed, nagging, and tired while screaming, Ginny could only pull off two of those qualities as she would ream the twins for whatever it was that they had done most recently. He personally liked it when she was only able to summon up the "angry" and "tired" traits while yelling at them – it made her tirades far less intense when she was often caught yawning while telling them how embarrassed she was at what they'd done.

Recalling several instances of the two Weasley women's shouting episodes, Fred shook his head in response to his initial question upon hearing the new arrival's endless screaming. It definitely wasn't a girl – that much was certain. Other than that single clue, Fred didn't have much to work with when it came to identifying the new stranger. He could hear the agonizing sounds echoing through the building, but the screams could have come from anyone. He kept hoping to hear the stranger pleading for mercy or _something_, just so Fred could hear the man's normal voice.

Fred had been staring into the darkness of his cell for what felt like an hour. He had started getting a sense of the passage of time by how many series of drips he heard during his stay in the dark room beneath the building. Speaking of which… Fred tilted his head to the side, listening carefully for the familiar sound. Just when he thought it would come, the man from above screamed again.

He shook his head in frustration. The man probably screamed right when the water dripped. Fred leaned forward to listen more intently and after a moment, another round of screams rang out from above him. He clenched his fists and stood up, moving towards the door of his cell. A very distinct part of his mind fervently wished that the man would just pass out already so that it would be quiet again.

At that thought, Fred froze in mid-step and wondered when he had ever become a fan of silence. It took him a moment to realize that his ill-intentioned wish had somehow been granted, as the building seemed drenched in a heavy silence for a long while. Fred didn't think about what had become of the man upstairs. He didn't wonder if the stranger had been killed or if he had just passed out from exhaustion.

Fred merely stood in place long enough to know that the dripping hadn't sounded for far too long, and that it probably wouldn't again. But then, why would anyone fix it? He shook his head and moved toward the door of the cell, pushing against it as if to find the missing leak and restore it to its broken form, the one that he had become accustomed to.

The door pushed open at his touch and he walked blindly, waving tentative hands in front of him to locate anything that might drip if given the opportunity. His left hand hit a wall that seemed to be made of brick, and before he knew it, his head hit upon something metal that echoed loudly. Cursing at the offending obstacle, Fred put his hand on it and tugged. Something creaked and he looked up, even though the act was futile in the seemingly endless dark of the room.

_Drip… plop!_

He shook his head and quickly released the object, which must have been a pipe, seeing as water had just dripped right onto his head. He listened as the dripping sound continued, but he frowned after a moment, and it wasn't because loud voices were drifting through the floor from above again. No, that dripping was only supposed to go in series of three.

Fred gripped the pipe again and spent far more time than he ever would have before this experience to break a pipe. Eventually, he made it drip twice before it would pause and then continue. Accepting that as the best he could manage for now, Fred turned around while waving his arms around in the dark. If there was one thing he would never live without after this experience, he vowed, it would be light. It wasn't that the lack of light scared him – that would be silly. It was that he had no way of knowing what, or who, was around him or lying in wait for him.

After a moment of blind movement in which he guided himself toward the door leading to the stairs by feeling the wall, it occurred to him that the move was pointless as the door would most likely be locked. He looked toward where he knew his cell was and tried to remember if it had ever been locked or if this occasion was a fluke. It annoyed him that he couldn't remember and he almost kicked himself for never even testing it to see if it had been locked.

Finding the doorknob, Fred turned it and was slightly surprised to watch as the door opened a crack. Light poured in and Fred cringed away from it. He slowly let his eyes adjust to it before opening the door a bit wider. Now that the door was open, he could hear the voices that were filtering down to his level a bit better. He was able to differentiate between three of the voices: Wormtail's, the Dark Lord's, and the newcomer's.

Curiosity filled him as he wondered who the new voice belonged to. His feet carried him quietly up the steps, aided by years of experience at sneaking around with George. Fred passed a window that looked out upon a dark expanse of messy lawn that needed to be cared for. He continued up the building, beyond the small bathroom and makeshift potions lab, until he was outside the room where the Dark Lord seemed to spend most of his time.

He hid behind the open door, pressed against the wall so that if anyone were to come out of the room, chances were that he may go unnoticed. He focused his gaze on the space between the door and the wall, through which he could see a sliver of the room. Fred breathed shallowly so that he could hear better and waited for the stranger to finish groaning in pain and say something.

Wormtail's voice cut in over the moans of the tortured individual. Fred's eyes narrowed in distaste as he listened to the rat's voice. "We will extend this offer once again, since you seem to have trouble hearing it. Do you want to continue to live and provide us with what we need, or would you rather we go after your family and friends until one of them get us what we need?"

There was a shuffle as the stranger worked to face the rat, and Fred could only imagine the kind of arrogant expression that Wormtail was probably holding high above the newcomer's pained form. Another low groan sounded out and then a vaguely familiar voice spoke shakily.

"Neither I, nor anyone I know, will ever consent to help you in _any_ way!" Though the voice sounded tired – scratch that, it sounded exhausted – the force and honesty of the words was no less intense.

"My, that is unfortunate," came the quiet but equally attention-holding voice of the Dark Lord. "Allow us to persuade you further…" There was a pause during which the evil creature, the shadow of such a powerful being, must have given some instruction to Wormtail.

Fred could barely make out the shadow of the man in the room and almost cringed as the Cruciatus was cast, sending the familiar-sounding stranger into another round of tortured screaming. Fred followed the movement of the shadow as it twitched and shook on the wall behind the man. He wasn't sure why, but the man's voice reminded him of a Quidditch match that he'd seen in his first year at Hogwarts. The screaming grew louder and louder as his mind retreated back to a mostly forgotten memory, trying to figure out where he knew this stranger's voice from.

* * *

><p>Arthur ran through the campgrounds with Percy trailing behind him. The Death Eaters had begun to disapparate as more aurors showed up, which just barely eased the worry that Arthur had for George at the moment. What was the teen thinking to run after these madmen?<p>

Of course, Arthur knew what George had been thinking, or rather, a shade of what his son was feeling. George wasn't the only one in the family that wanted to run after the Death Eaters and find Fred so that they could bring him home. Arthur counted himself lucky that all of his children hadn't gotten that very idea into their heads, especially the younger ones. Ron and his friends were far too prone to taking risks without fully thinking through the possible consequences.

The two Weasleys took various turns in search of George, pausing from time to time to intervene when the situation called for it. After turning away from a detained Death Eater, Arthur leaned toward Percy to tell him to head back to their tent to see if George might have returned there. He paused at the expression on Percy's face. His third eldest son was looking down the campsite at a figure that stood in the middle of a small grassy area. Arthur quickly recognized the person as George.

Arthur approached slowly, hoping that George was alright, even though it was obvious that he wasn't. Though he didn't appear to be injured beyond a few minor scrapes, George seemed more exhausted than any teenager should ever feel. As Arthur and Percy slowly stepped forward, George turned and looked at them with a blank, slightly confused expression.

"Did you know that you can apparate while dancing?" he asked, and the confused expression began to dissolve into a laugh that sounded both stressed and forced. "Not that we'd designed them to _not _work during apparition, mind you," George added, waving a hand around him dazedly, "but you would think that it would at least slow you down…"

"George?" Arthur asked, observing how George quickly shifted his eyesight toward his father. The boy's eyes were wider than usual and Arthur wondered for a moment if he was merely in shock over what had happened or if something else was at work.

George continued on when it seemed like his father wasn't going to say anything else. "At least they had one good effect," he said, and pointed behind him to a large mark that was smoldering on the side of a nearby tent from some sort of explosive spell. "That could have been me. That is to say, it would have been me if they hadn't been so busy waltzing with each other to take better aim…"

Arthur took a few steps forward and stood quietly next to George, not wanting to surprise or startle his son any further.

"I'm fine," George stated numbly, turning to look at Arthur. "Really, I am. I'm just… disappointed." Arthur nodded at him and put his hand on the boy's arm, leading him away in the direction of the forest. They still needed to collect the younger children, which Arthur desperately hoped were actually where they were supposed to be.

The three Weasleys didn't share a word during their walk toward the trees. Arthur kept trying to think of what he should say or do in response to George's reckless behavior, but every time he thought of something, he deemed in inadequate in the same thought. Little did he know that what they were about to happen upon in the forest would add far more stress to the whole situation than any of them needed.

* * *

><p>Fred was starting to feel a bit light-headed, and it wasn't from the sickening sounds of anguished screaming coming from the room next to him. He had been practically holding his breath or taking very shallow breaths ever since coming up here, and he started to wonder if he was getting enough air. Feeling a bit dizzy at standing for so long outside the room, Fred leaned towards the crack between the frame and the door and tried to see more of what was happening, and who could possibly be in there along with Wormtail and the Dark Lord.<p>

He misjudged the distance that he could lean forward and felt his head collide with the solid door rather loudly. Unfortunately enough, it happened at a point during which the stranger was only moaning quietly on the ground. The room grew eerily silent for a moment and Fred considered bolting back downstairs before the door was pulled back and he was dragged by the arm to stand in the open doorway. Wormtail kept a tight grip on Fred's arm as they stood just on the edge of the room.

Fred now had a full and unhindered view of the room and its occupants and looked to the ground to see a man that looked full of pain and worry. Their eyes met and the man on the floor blinked for a moment before he spoke, rising off the floor with each word.

"You… a Weasley…" he said, wavering on his feet a short distance from Fred. "You're… you've got to help…" With each word, the man stepped closer to Fred until the distance between them was only a foot or so. Fred felt his back stiffen as the man's eyes stared right into his soul.

When Fred failed to respond, the man reached out to grip Fred's shoulders and shake him imploringly, even as he asked again, "Don't let them… they can't find her…"

Fred wasn't aware that he was shaking his head and trying to pull away. Part of him was riveted by the man's expression, and another part of him wanted frantically to distance himself as a form of self-preservation. He vaguely heard the Dark Lord's voice taunting the man about the woman that this stranger had mentioned – his wife – but Fred only barely registered the words.

The hands on his shoulders gripped more tightly, drawing a sting of pain from under the stranger's desperate fingers. That small pain, insignificant when compared the other man's suffering, forced a reaction from Fred, one that he would regret as long as he remembered it.

He shrugged his shoulders sharply to free himself from the man's grip and violently shoved the other man back into the room, knocking him back to the floor that he'd spent most of the evening on. Fred heard himself say that there was nothing he could do and he hated himself for not being able to prevent his actions and his words. The betrayed expression on the stranger's face nearly tore him apart.

Though he would have liked very much to bolt from the room, to escape from witnessing what he had just sentenced the man to, he couldn't. Wormtail's grip on his arm remained, holding him in place as the man continued to scream and writhe in pain on the floor. More questions were asked and the man, whose name was hovering just out of Fred's reach, gave only a glare in response. After what seemed like hours, the Killing Curse was uttered and the man's lifeless body collapsed to the ground before them.

As the man's body lay there, Fred stared at the blank expression which now dominated the stranger's face. Suddenly, he remembered who this person was. He was several years ahead of him and George, and had been a beater for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He'd been a fantastic player. Fred felt his body quiver in anxiety as he recalled how kind the older student had been when the twins had asked him about his Quidditch history once in the hallway.

He'd just thrown that same person into a living hell.

Fred didn't add a word of input as Wormtail spoke with the Dark Lord. He didn't register what was being said, nor did he really care. He only had eyes for the kind person who now lay dead on the floor of this filthy building and who would never get to see his wife again. Fred wondered why he didn't even _try_ to stand up for the man.

The grip on his arm disappeared and without looking up, he turned and began to walk back downstairs, unhindered by Wormtail or his leader. His mind dwelled on the fact that he could blame the action on the potion that he had consumed, but at this point, he started to wonder if it was even still affecting him. What if this was who he truly was? The thought horrified him and he stopped to lean against the wall nearby the potions lab and sank to the floor.

Fred sat, staring at his hands, for a while before he realized that someone was standing in front of him. Not having the energy to be startled or worried, he lifted his head tiredly and gazed upon the image of the Hogwarts Potions Master. He wondered vaguely if Snape had always had a knack for showing up when he was least wanted.

Snape offered a hand to help Fred up which the boy almost ignored. Thinking better of it, he moved shakily to accept it and was pulled quickly to his feet. Fred leaned against the wall, too dizzy from standing so quickly to trust his balance without help at the moment. Snape stepped past him into the potions lab and took a seat on one of the stools next to a work table.

Slowly, Fred stepped into the room and sat across from his teacher. He still wasn't sure which side of the line Snape stood on, but he didn't dwell on it too much. If the man wanted to help him, than he would take it and be thankful. If not, then he'd still be a greasy git.

Fred watched as Snape pulled out a few pieces of parchment and spread them on the table. Fred gazed at them tiredly, about ready to get up and retreat back downstairs where he wasn't confused by the actions of deranged Potions Masters. He moved to stand again when he saw that he recognized the writing on a few of the pieces of parchment as his and George's.

"Where did you get these?" Fred asked quietly.

Snape didn't respond for a moment, choosing instead to pick up a single piece of parchment that had different handwriting on it. He made as if to hand it to Fred but paused and said, "I want you to think back to the potion that you and your twin made. Think about the ingredients you used, what order you put them in, and how much you used."

"Why?"

"Would you like to eradicate the potion and see if your outcome improves, or would you like to continue throwing good people to the wolves?"

Fred cringed in response to that. How on earth the greasy git knew about what had happened upstairs was beyond the teen, but he knew that there was too much truth in the older man's words. Nodding, he closed his eyes and thought back to the day that he'd made that blasted potion alongside George.

He recalled something about fluxweed – they'd added that and peppermint, which seemed strange at the time, since both plants were mints. There was also the koi scales that he'd added too much of.

Opening his eyes, Fred held out his hand to take the parchment. On it he recognized Hermione's pretty script outlining what was probably the closest recipe to the one they'd made. Each ingredient she listed seemed correct, and Fred nodded and handed it back to Snape.

"Is it true that you used that many koi scales?" Snape asked quietly, though it wasn't his quiet and dangerous voice this time.

Fred nodded in response and asked, "Why?"

"Koi scales have a magical tendency to contribute to the permanency of any given potion."

Fred looked at him with a blank expression and Snape sighed derisively before further explaining, "The more koi scales that are added to a potion, the longer the effects will last. Most potions that use them only call for one or two. The fact that you used ten means that the potion may still be affecting you."

It was still affecting him. Would he really let himself get away with what he'd just done tonight by blaming it on this potion? Fred wasn't sure.

Snape stood and commented, "I will be working on a remedy for this, though it may take some time. In the meantime, I will advise you not to go searching for trouble in this house, lest you happen upon a situation similar to the one you found yourself in tonight."

Fred stood and leaned against the table as Snape gathered the papers and shrunk them, putting them back in his pocket. The two walked silently back to the cell on the floor below them. Snape opened the door and Fred walked in, wishing that he had energy to argue against having to go back into such darkness.

Before he shut the door, Snape pulled something else out of a pocket and held it up to the light. It looked like one of Dumbledore's lemon drops, and Fred smiled lightly in spite of himself. "This caused quite a bit of trouble for several of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters tonight, especially Mr. Malfoy."

He handed the small candy to Fred and added, "Shame it didn't have consequences that were slightly more drastic than being forced to waltz for an hour…"

With that, Snape shut the door and left. Fred held the candy that he and George had dubbed as a "dancing drop" in his hand, not able to rid the smile from his face. George had managed to use it against Malfoy of all people. Fred grinned and wondered about what other possibilities could show themselves in the form of innocent little candies.

* * *

><p>Molly Weasley couldn't sleep. This wasn't the first night, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, that she had spent sitting in front of the Weasley family clock, waiting for one of the hands to change to something more preferable. When the twins were toddlers, it had been worry over Arthur during the first war. Now it was over her missing child.<p>

The group had returned earlier that night and she had been overjoyed to find that they were all here, relatively intact, despite what had happened. She had hugged each of them tightly, hoping that she'd have the opportunity to do the same to Fred soon.

Since it had been rather late when they got back, the children had cleaned up and then gone to their respective rooms to sleep, though both Arthur and Molly knew they wouldn't be sleeping until much later. Who would be able to sleep soundly after all of that mayhem had sprung up around you?

After the children had gone upstairs, Arthur had told her about George's actions, which worried her greatly. They both knew that Fred's absence would affect George terribly, and though they hoped he would be able to persevere, they both knew that he would be too distraught at times to think clearly. This was one of those times, and Molly couldn't help but wonder when the next time would come.

Arthur had also told her about the situation revolving around Harry's wand and the House Elf that had also been involved, who supposedly belonged to Barty Crouch Sr., a man that neither of the Weasley parents cared much for. Once again, she shook her head morosely at the fact that this drama continued to follow Harry and land him in trouble. Thankfully, Arthur had been there to calm things down and bring reason to the others that couldn't see it.

Molly sighed and picked up her teacup and took a sip of the now-cold tea. Too tired to utter a warming charm upon it, she let it sit and dragged herself up to go to bed. Hopefully, tomorrow would be a better day. She hoped that news would come that could change that dratted clock's face for a change. As she crawled into bed next to Arthur, who sleepily wrapped an arm around her, she pulled the blankets up and whispered a quiet goodnight to her husband.

**Fred lives through another chapter! And so does George! Sad day for the Ravenclaw guy, but hey… I have to practice killing people off sometime… oops, I mean – I promise not to? Sorry… **

**This chapter was short for my liking (sorry) but I wanted to get some angsty stuff out of the way. Next chapter will probably have the start of the next school year and some George action, if you're interested in it… let me know! :)**

**Anyways, let me know what you think! **

**PS – go to my profile and check out the link for a Harry Potter anime art thing. It's AWESOME!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Runeaglerun – I'm so happy you found the story! Thank you for reviewing! I hope your brothers don't think you're too crazy – that's why I had to start reading fanfics in my room. I read one at Starbucks once and started bawling and the baristas thought someone died… in retrospect, it was pretty hilarious. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! _

_Crystalclearwaterzinmoonlight – hehe your "dancing drops" idea gave me a really terrible one… I'm so excited!_

_Lucy – lol I was so happy to see your review! I missed you! I'm glad you liked Fred's reaction in the last chapter – I was kinda worried how it turned out, but your review really made me happy with it! :)_

_TeamGredandForge – More from Georgie this chapter, just for you! :)_

**Chapter Thirteen**

The next day was as hectic as all the other days that involved large shipments of Weasleys to ancient castles in Scotland. This was also known as the day that they left for Hogwarts, but Molly and Arthur often compared it to something much more involved.

George came downstairs in time to hear Percy boasting about going to work at the Ministry. George scoffed at him but followed him out of the house nonetheless. When the door shut behind them, Percy turned to look at George with an expression of concentration, as if he was trying to read his younger brother's mind. After a moment of speculative silence, Percy spoke.

"If you need anything, let me know," Percy offered, and though George knew he was trying to say more without actually saying it, he pretended to take it at face-value and joke about it.

"Sure, Perce," he replied, smiling. "If I find myself in the need to know which thickness of cauldron to purchase, I'll send you an owl straight-away."

In a move that was decidedly unlike Percy's normal behavior, his older brother rolled his eyes and said, "You know what I mean."

George nodded and said quietly, "You'll hear from me, don't worry. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Percy nodded along and then turned to leave. George didn't stop him in an effort to prolong the conversation – they both knew that such an interaction between them was unusual, no matter how well they had gotten along in the last few days. George stood outside for a moment after Percy left and considered the trip to Hogwarts that they'd all be taking today. He really didn't want to go without Fred. He almost felt as if he was betraying his brother by continuing on without him.

He turned back towards the house and sighed. It didn't matter how badly he felt about going back, since there was no way that his mum would let him skip his sixth year. _'Besides,' _he thought, _'I need to stay caught up on what we do this year so that Fred won't be behind when he comes home.' _

Trying to keep that hopeful thought at the forefront of his mind, George stepped back into the Burrow, only to find most of the household gathered around the fireplace. It seemed his father was having a conversation with someone that had flooed over. Interested, he crept up behind them to see what was so captivating and overheard the tail-end of a conversation involving someone named "Mad-Eye" and jinxes before his mum stuffed the visitor's mouth with a piece of toast. His dad hurriedly got ready to leave, wishing them all a good term as he made his way towards the door.

George wasn't entirely sure who Mad-Eye was, though he'd heard quite a few interesting stories that tended to paint the man in a very strange light. He shook his head and listened as Bill and Charlie tried to describe Mad-Eye to Harry. Unfortunately, Mad-Eye had the sort of appearance and personality that couldn't just be described with words. George rolled his eyes as Charlie attempted to pull off the old Auror's expression and leaned over to help.

"There, Harry, look at George. That's more of a Moody expression than I can ever do," Charlie said with a laugh. George grinned and then donned the strangest face he could manage, at which point his mum turned around to look.

She huffed with either amusement or exasperation, no one could tell which, and then said, "Now then, Moody is a very well-respected Auror. There's a lot that he could teach you." With that, she left the room to check on Ginny and Hermione, who were currently dragging their trunks down the stairs. George and Charlie traded "Moody expressions" for a few minutes before their mum came back in to tell them that it was time to leave already.

The trip to the train station was ridiculous, to put it bluntly. Eight people, five trunks, two owls, and a cat weren't designed to fit in the small spaces that were known as muggle taxi cabs, no matter that they had three cabs to share. Nevertheless, the group made it in time and the kids let themselves be herded into the train station by their mum, Bill, and Charlie.

George found a compartment on the train and stowed his trunk above it before heading back to say goodbye to his mum and older brothers. He moved quickly through the train, hoping that people wouldn't come up to comment on the fact that Fred wasn't here with him. He didn't see Lee nearby and hoped that his fellow Gryffindor would find the compartment that he'd picked out.

He walked back to where his mum was standing but was sidetracked by Bill and Charlie, who stopped him before he got within Mum's reach.

"George, we were wondering if we could ask a favor of you," Bill said with a low voice, obviously not wanting their mum to hear.

He nodded in response and said, "Sure, anything, as long it isn't anything that would be detrimental to my character, such as to study more this year."

Charlie smiled but Bill didn't, so George just waved his hand so that Bill would say what he'd meant to say.

"There's a lot planned to happen at Hogwarts this year," Bill said vaguely, "and I know how hard the last few days have been…"At that, George's expression darkened, knowing that he'd only be getting more of this same sentiment the second he got around his classmates and teachers.

Charlie cut in to finish what Bill was saying, "Basically, we want to make sure that you don't do something stupid like running after Death Eaters all by yourself."

Bill sighed and threw Charlie a look before clarifying, "What he meant to say was that we'd like it if you at least let someone know before you go and do something like that. I know there's no point in telling you not to do it, because you won't listen," at that, George smiled, knowing it was true. "But don't go running after a possibility without at least letting someone know and thinking it through."

George knew it made sense, though he decided to joke about it anyways, since it was against his nature to take too many things seriously in any given day. "So, basically, I solemnly swear to not get caught?" He asked, grinning as he held up the wrong hand. His older brothers chuckled and then laughed as George was swept into a tight hug from his mum.

"Oh, George," she said quietly, holding onto him. George hugged her back and then pulled away, even though she obviously didn't want him to. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she started to cry – it usually happened when she dropped off her children at the Hogwarts Express, and he knew this time would be worse without having Fred to drop off as well.

Not knowing what else to say, George smiled at her and then pushed Ginny back toward her, hoping that she'd forgive him for using her as a sacrifice. With one last glance to his older brothers, he stepped back onto the train and made his way back to the compartment. This time, the looks coming from the other students reached him and almost broke through his concentration, which was centered on the floor until he reached the door to his compartment. He pulled it open and sighed in relief when he noticed that Lee was the only other one in the small room.

Lee looked up and gave a small smile as he asked, "Holding up alright?"

George shut the door tightly behind him and dropped onto the opposite bench heavily. He shook his head and said bitterly, "It's not _right_." Neither of them needed to clarify what wasn't right about the entire situation that they were in. It was obvious both by George's mood and the fact that he didn't have a mirror image sitting right next to him that would have probably been rambling on about how soon they could wreak havoc at the school this year.

"I read about it in the paper…" Lee said, glancing out the window as the train started to pull away. Though he knew Lee wouldn't have taken any offense at it, George cringed at the thought that he'd forgotten to write to Lee to tell him about it. The two spent the next hour discussing what had happened over the last few days. When George's tale caught up to where they were, the boys grew silent as they thought it over.

Lee looked up and asked, "So now what?"

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"Well, what are we going to do to get him back, or find him, or… something?" Lee clarified, gesturing with his hands that they should already be doing something.

Seeing what he meant, George sank back into the cushions sullenly and said, "Well, what _can _we do? We'll be stuck at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future. Not to mention the fact that I've practically promised to keep myself out of it so as to spare everyone else a headache."

Lee stared at him for a moment and asked incredulously, "How could you promise something like that?"

George turned away slightly. Though Lee hadn't said it outright, the promise did seem like he was giving up in a way, which was completely unacceptable. Across from him, Lee shook his head as if to clear the thought and spoke again.

"Well, if it were me that had been kidnapped by that great blonde git, then what would you and Fred do?"

"Oh, I suppose we'd have to go rescue your sorry arse…" George responded, smirking slightly.

"So let's make a list of suspicious people and then cross them out when we eliminate them as potential suspects," Lee suggested, pulling out a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

The two proceeded to make a very detailed list, including Draco Malfoy and his entire family, as well as the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. They also started to add any Slytherin that passed by their compartment, since the sneaky snakes were probably out spying anyways. After an hour of so-called meticulous list-making, the two looked at it and laughed as they realized that they had written the name of just about every Slytherin in the school, as well as several that had already graduated.

"Oh, what the hell?" George said, smiling while shaking his head. He grabbed the quill and wrote Professor Snape's name at the bottom of the parchment, causing Lee to start laughing loudly. The two threw a couple of names around as more of a joke than anything else before they reached the school.

Lee threw the parchment into his bag and the two boys opened the compartment door and followed the other students out to the carriages. As they stood to wait for an open horseless carriage, George couldn't help but listen to the comments circulating around him.

"Hey, it's one of the Weasley twins…"

"Did you read that article, that one of them…"

"Yeah, I did. Which one was it again?"

George clenched his fists so tightly by his side that he figured he'd probably cut his palms with his nails if they were long enough. Lee looked over and glared at the group of younger girls – Hufflepuffs, it looked like – until they sheepishly walked away. A few moments later, the two friends boarded a carriage and began heading up to the castle.

Neither Lee nor George commented on what the girls had said. George knew people would be saying things like that until Fred came back, and he found himself selfishly hoping that Fred would return soon so that he wouldn't have to endure Hogwarts without his twin.

* * *

><p>While George had been discussing possible suspects with Lee, Fred was being set to work with three potions that were brewing. Wormtail was currently standing on guard outside the door while Fred watched over the potions and added ingredients as they were needed, referring to Snape's overly meticulous notes and instructions that were laid out on the counter before him.<p>

Fred felt thoroughly exhausted, and it wasn't due solely to the fact that he hadn't slept at all the night before. He felt sick in more ways than one from the effects of what happened the night before, as well as from not having eaten in too long a time. He kept hoping that he'd dreamt the events that led to the death of the Ravenclaw graduate, but nothing could make those memories seem less real at the moment.

In between moments of feeling sick to his stomach and wanting to forget everything, he attempted to adopt a sense of rebellion that he liked to think mattered. He'd argued with Snape earlier, hoping that it would lead to the older man leaving him down in the dark instead of making him come up to help with potion making. Fred had even tripped Wormtail, though the idiot was naturally clumsy to the point that he didn't think anyone else was responsible except for himself.

He stared into the potion before him, knowing that he needed to add three iris petals shortly. Looking at the box of preserved petals, he got an idea of how to easily get out of doing this work. Fred grabbed a handful of petals and made to toss them into the cauldron when a cane smacked into his arm, making him drop the petals with a yelp of pain.

Fred looked up to see slate-gray eyes peering at him in distaste before the cane was thrust forward to effectively shove him off his stool and to the floor. Fred looked up at the elder Malfoy, attempting the send a glare of equal intensity back at the man, though it was hindered by his position on the floor of the dirty little room.

Malfoy sneered at him before saying coolly, "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were attempting to sabotage one of the Dark Lord's potions…"

Before he could reign in the words, they escaped him. "Maybe we'll be lucky and my little mistake'll do away with the bloody bastard," Fred retorted.

He didn't have time to prepare himself for the violent pain of the Cruciatus which hit him almost instantly, making it seem as if molten bits of steel were being dropped into his veins to burn their way through his whole body. He didn't fully register it when the pain stopped a moment later, the effects dulling to a fierce throbbing beneath his skin as he lay on the floor.

Snape's voice seemed to be coming from a great ways away, though in reality the man was standing directly in front of him as he talked to Malfoy. "-think you're doing? He'll be of no use to me if he is unable to grip the ingredients enough to add them to the potions, or would you rather do the work yourself?"

Malfoy lifted up his nose at Snape and responded, "Oh, he's being quite useful, trying to sabotage the Dark Lord's potions. But, by all means, go ahead and allow him to do so, Severus. It'll be your neck on the line, not mine…"

"If such a thing happens, then I will deal with it. He is under my purview, not yours, Lucius," Snape said with a silky voice meant to both calm and warn others engaged in the conversation.

"Very well," Lucius said, putting away his wand for the moment. "I need to speak with the Dark Lord about the events that are taking place soon…"

Fred rolled his eyes at the blonde's word choice and felt yet another idiotic comment leaving his lips. "Yeah right, we know what you're really up to," he said smirking as the two older men turned to him again. Fred ignored the pointed glare coming from Snape. "I heard about how much you love to dance nowadays – I bet you're off to dance with –"

Luckily for Fred, Snape grabbed Malfoy's wand arm before the enraged man could curse the teen again. After a few unspoken words between the two men, Malfoy straightened his cloak and left the room with his head held high in the air. Both Snape and Fred held still for a moment before it sounded as if the coast was clear, and then Fred started to get up from the floor.

"Thanks for –" Fred started to say, but was cut off as the Potions Master's strong arms picked him up by the arms and pushed him against the wall, holding him in place and at eye level with the angry man, meaning that Fred was a few inches off the ground. Knowing that resistance would only further anger Snape, Fred remained as still and quiet as he could while the man snarled at him.

"Do you have a death wish, Weasley? Because if you do, inform me now so I can either make use of you or get rid of you," Snape growled out quietly enough that his voice wouldn't be heard by Wormtail, who was still outside.

Fred stared at him and stuttered out a few words that were supposed to be 'What do you mean?' Snape's glare intensified and he shoved him into the wall harder, effectively putting an end to his meager response.

"It's a yes or no answer that I want, Weasley. It's not so hard a question that an idiot Gryffindor like yourself can't figure out. Do you wish to die here?" Snape repeated, his grip on Fred's upper arms tightening painfully.

Fred shook his head and said, "I – no, no I don't…"

Snape huffed angrily and let go of him, causing Fred to almost loose his balance, though he somehow managed to remain standing. Snape went back to the brewing table and calmly added three iris petals to one of the potions while stirring the other. He didn't say a word or look at Fred at all while the teen leaned against the wall trying to catch his breath. He wondered idly if this was what classes would be like if Snape and Filch had their way.

Shaking slightly from the encounters with both Malfoy and Snape, Fred made his way back to the table, keeping his eyes on the parchments in front of him. Nothing was said for a few moments and then Snape slid two pieces of parchment across the table.

"These are the instructions for the last two potions. This one here," he said, motioning to the one that he'd just added the iris petals to, "is finished and needs to simmer, undisturbed, overnight. You are to follow the instructions _completely_ without adding or detracting anything unless it is stipulated on these papers. _Do you understand_?" Snape finished, glaring at Fred as if he was an idiot. To be honest, Fred agreed that he probably was an idiot after the stunt that he'd just tried to pull.

He nodded in response and looked over the instructions to make sure he understood them. The potions were fairly straightforward, so long as the correct ingredients were added at the right time and in the right amounts.

"When you have finished, you may go back downstairs. I will not be back for two days, since classes are resuming at Hogwarts," Snape explained in the same tone as before. Fred bit his lip lightly at the thought that he would be missing the Welcome Feast, as well as seeing all his friends again. Fred thought about George and wondered how he was doing throughout all of this.

"Are you listening, Weasley?" Snape asked abruptly. Fred shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocused on the man before him. "I have a remedy for that potion that you took, and it should be ready to test by this weekend. With any luck, it will cut down on the number of idiotic utterances that keep escaping you."

Fred nodded in response and quietly thanked the man before Snape stood and left the room. Fred noticed Wormtail peek in after Snape left but he didn't pay the rat any mind. Instead, he focused on completing the potions so that he could go back downstairs and rest. The exhaustion hit him again and he stood quickly, pushing the stool away. He knew that if he kept sitting on it that he would fall asleep and the potions would end up getting ruined.

After stirring one of the potions twelve times, Fred walked around the room to keep himself awake, wondering what George was doing now. As he walked, he tried to picture the feast at Hogwarts and the sorting ceremony, and everything else that made the first day back wonderful. He tried not to let it get to him that he wouldn't be there to experience it again with his twin.

* * *

><p>George couldn't sleep. It wasn't completely unusual for the dorm on this particular night, however, since none of the boys were sleeping, even though it was nearing one in the morning. The Welcome Feast had been very enlightening. With the arrival of Mad-Eye Moody (whose facial expression was far more interesting than George could ever aspire to mimic) and the announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, it was no wonder that everyone would want to be up late talking about it. The conversations ranged from complaints about the age limit, to speculations about what was included in the tournament, to ideas of how to get past the age line.<p>

These weren't the things on George's mind though. It had bothered him and relieved him more than he wanted to admit when he'd stepped into the familiar dorm room and found the same number of beds in the area. Though he appreciated the fact that no one disturbed the seemingly extra bed in the room, it made Fred's absence grow, especially at night, when they would lean over and talk about whatever happened to be on their minds.

Eventually, his dorm mates drifted off to sleep, though George still couldn't fall asleep. After another hour of staring at the ceiling, George stood and opened the door to go to the commons area. He found a couch in front of the fire and threw himself down onto it, pulling a blanket that he'd brought down over his head. Despite the move, it was still another hour before he managed to fall asleep.

George woke the next morning to find Lee standing above him holding the blanket that he'd brought down. George sat up and stared at him blearily for a moment before the other boy spoke.

"So, classes start in ten minutes, I thought you'd want to know," Lee said, smirking at George whose eyes widened as he jumped up hastily.

"Bugger it all…" George muttered as he ran upstairs to get his shoes and bag. He met Lee back in the commons three minutes later and the two walked quickly to get to class. "Which ones do we have today?"

"History of Magic, Transfigurations, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts with Moody," Lee answered, sounding excited about that last one.

George groaned, knowing he was going to fall asleep in History of Magic. Sure enough, ten minutes later found Lee nudging him in the side to keep him awake. As George rested his head on his hand, he figured that this class would probably be the best opportunity to get any decent sleep. Writing as much on his notes for Lee to see, he let his head drop and enjoyed undisturbed sleep for the rest of the hour.

McGonagall's Transfigurations class was a different matter entirely. Not only would McGonagall not let him sleep, but staying awake meant he had to put up with questions from classmates who hadn't gotten a chance to ask earlier. Thankfully, the strict head of Gryffindor saw this as a distraction to her teaching and effectively silenced anything non-class related until the end of the hour.

Finally, the class that everyone was looking forward to was next. After listening to McGonagall's description of how to transfigure non-organic items into organic items, the group of Gryffindor sixth years headed to Moody's classroom and waited impatiently outside the door.

George and Lee were thrilled when, after they'd seated themselves near the front, Moody said to everyone to put the books away since they wouldn't be needed.

"I could get used to this," Lee said excitedly, shoving his book in his bag without even looking to see what else he was crushing.

Moody picked up the class roster and started to call out names, unnerving most of the class as his normal eye stayed focused on the list while the magical eye swiveled around to see each student. George wasn't sure if it was due to the creepiness of the eye or not, but he felt as if it lingered on him a bit longer than necessary.

Once he finished taking roll, Moody leaned against his desk and stared out at the classroom full of expectant and, in some cases, nervous students. He waited and waited until one of the students made a move as if to ask what they would do, and that was when he barked out a single word.

"Curses!" The entire class was a bit startled at that, and some students couldn't figure out if he was cursing or trying to introduce the concept of curses.

"You aren't allowed to learn dark curses," Moody stated more calmly, "that much is understandable. However, how many of you would actually recognize them if they were used? How many of you have seen a dark curse in action?" The man's magical eye turned about, searching the students to see if anyone had such experience.

George thought back to the short battle that had gone so terribly in Knockturn Alley when Fred had been taken. Moody's eye swiveled and stopped on him before he moved on.

"You may have heard of some, or possibly, you have seen them be used. What's an example of such a dark curse… an illegal curse?" Moody asked, probing for answers.

One of the Slytherins smirked and raised his hand, replying as Moody inclined his head towards him. "The Unforgivables, sir."

"Ah, yes, the very worst of them all…" Moody agreed. "And can anyone name one of the Unforgivables?"

A Gryffindor answered this time, providing the Imperius Curse as an example. Moody smiled and reached behind his desk to grab a small cage that held an equally small grey mouse. "The Imperius Curse, a great choice…" Moody pulled the mouse out and set it on the table before everyone as he leveled his wand at it. "Imperio!"

The mouse seemed to freeze for a moment before it stood on its hind legs and began dancing in a circle. After a moment, Moody dropped a small ball next to it and the mouse actually began to balance it on its nose while dancing. The entire class laughed as the mouse began doing handstands and rolling in somersaults around the table.

"Yes, it's very amusing, isn't it?" Moody asked while making the mouse jump to one a student table and continue its dancing. "Would you like for me to try it on you? Perhaps we shall see if you too are capable of dancing in such a way," Moody said, and most of the class snickered at the thought of dancing around like the mouse was.

"Then again, what if I decided that dancing wasn't enough? That you should, perhaps, do my laundry for me?" The students all crinkled their noses at this comment. "The Imperius Curse isn't just used for fun. It can be used to humiliate and even hurt someone. Imagine that with a thought, I could make this mouse chew on its own leg until it ate itself. Or perhaps I could make it run under someone's foot as they walked to class."

The students weren't sure what to make of this information. George suddenly didn't find it as amusing any more, and a glance at Lee told him that his friend felt the same way. After a moment, the mouse jumped over and climbed back into its cage, merry as could be, though the class knew better. Moody ended the curse and looked out at the students. "You will be learning techniques to fight that curse, though for some it is completely impossible. The best way to avoid it is to not get hit by it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" The entire class jumped at that point, throwing wary glances at each other to make sure that they weren't the only ones to get so startled by the strange professor's bark.

"Another curse, another Unforgivable, if you will," Moody asked.

Lee raised his hand almost nervously and answered, "The Cruciatus Curse?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Lee stared back at Moody and asked, "Are you going to use it on that mouse?"

In answer to Lee's question, Moody turned and pointed his wand at the mouse as he called out, "Crucio!"

The mouse began squeaking loudly and thrashing about on the table, twisting its body in ways that seemed impossible. Everyone stared forward, almost in shock that Moody had cast the curse, as the mouse was thrown into violent spasms. George felt as if he'd be sick if it continued any longer. Before he could say as much, Moody ended the curse and, without turning to face the class, spoke quietly for a moment.

"The Cruciatus Curse… a curse to instill the greatest pain without needing anything other than a wand. If exposed to it for too long, the curse can severely damage the mind… This is another curse that you would do well to avoid," Moody muttered. "The last curse? The last Unforgivable?"

Someone on the other side of the room must have named it, but George didn't hear it. He was staring at the mouse that was twitching convulsively on the bottom of the cage, emitting tiny squeaks of misery as it lay there.

"That's right," Moody said to the class, "The Killing Curse."

The class watched in horrified anticipation as Moody once again leveled his wand at the pitiful mouse in the cage and spoke the curse that would end its life. The bright green light blinded them momentarily, but no one complained as the mouse went limp on the table.

George stared at the dead mouse and felt a terrible chill wash over him. Was Fred being subjected to this? Would he be, or had he already been? He wrapped his arms around himself slowly, feeling colder than he'd felt in a long time, despite how warm it had been in the classroom just a few minutes before. He looked up and tried to focus on what Moody was saying, but another part of him didn't really care. The loud bark of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" forced him to listen though.

After a brief moment, Moody launched into a lecture about the Unforgivables and George slowly caught up with the rest of his classmates as he took out some parchment and attempted to take notes on the subject. His mind was elsewhere though, so it was no surprise to him that his parchment was mostly blank at the end of the lesson. The students stood to leave, but George lingered, feeling that Moody might be a good person to ask for advice. He motioned for Lee to go on ahead and walked to Moody's desk after the last of the students had left the classroom.

Moody looked at him curiously with his normal eye while his magical eye trailed after the last of the students. "You have a question, Mr. Weasley?"

George took a reassuring breath and then asked, "I was wondering if, since you have a lot of experience with, umm… dark wizards and, er…" at that he paused, wondering what it was that he had planned to say.

The professor stood up completely and looked at George with both of his eyes. George felt suddenly small under the old Auror's gaze and almost forgot why he'd stayed after class. A moment later, however, Moody narrowed his eyes and said, "Yes, I heard about what happened to your twin. And if you want to get to the bottom of it, I recommend that you do so on your own. Don't rely on others to do what they're supposed to, boy, because they'll invariably fail at it, leaving you with the loss."

The words were spoken calmly, though George heard both what he needed and wanted to hear. He never felt comfortable when someone else was doing a task that was important to him, and Fred was more important than anything else in his life. He nodded and thanked Moody before walking out of the classroom, the unnerving feeling of being watched following him all the way down the corridor away from Moody's classroom.

Since that was the last class of the day, George decided to meander through the halls and think. It was better than going back to Gryffindor Tower where people would continue to ask him about Fred. As he walked, he thought of ways that he could find information about Fred. The more he thought about it, the more he decided that spying on the Slytherins, Malfoy in particular, was the best course of action to take.

As he was wondering how he could best accomplish this, he stopped and looked around, surprised to see that he had wandered all the way down to the dungeons. Hearing voices coming up the corridor, George figured that he would go ahead and start out his new spying duties on unsuspecting Slytherins. He hid himself in a dark alcove and waited for the voices to get closer.

If he'd been a cat, his ears would have perked up visibly at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice echoing down the hallway.

"-casual event this Saturday. Father wants me to go and has gotten permission from Snape. He's said that I can bring two guests if I want, so I suppose you two idiots can come with…"

"Will there be food?" One of Malfoy's bodyguard thugs asked dumbly.

"And girls?" The other one asked. George couldn't tell them apart.

George could see that the three boys were about to pass him by and so he pulled his wand out and silently caused one of the thug's bags to rip open, spilling his books and such onto the ground.

"Ah, bloody hell!" The idiot groaned, bending over to pick up his things. The other two watched without moving to help at all.

"Anyways," Malfoy drawled, "We'll be leaving at six on Saturday evening. Be sure to wear something respectable and meet me at the doors of the Great Hall. If you're late, then you're not going."

The two thugs nodded in assent and, after the one finished grabbing his things (neglecting to repair his bag, most likely because he didn't know how), the trio moved on.

George stood in the alcove in silence for several minutes, deep in thought about what Malfoy and his goons had discussed. A moment's hesitation was all it took before he was off running toward Gryffindor Tower. He hardly noticed that he startled several first year Gryffindors as he gasped out the password and ran into the commons area.

He looked around and spotted Lee writing what looked like an essay and hurriedly made his way over to his friend. Lee looked up and stared at George who stood over him, slightly out of breath from running up to the Tower.

"Yes?" Lee asked.

"Any ideas how I can get some Polyjuice Potion by Friday?"

**Oh, George… You and your sneaky little ideas… **

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! Please, if you're reading (especially if you "favorite" the story), send a review to let me know what you think or would like to see! **

**PS – would you guys kill me if I pause this story for a while to purge an idea? I have a fluffy cute story idea about the twins that I want to destroy… and fluffy and cute really don't work with this story… let me know!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_I am SOOOO sorry that it took me so long to update! I could name the excuses, but I doubt you care, and I don't blame you if you don't. I want to give a special thanks to SolelyReader and kristyl lilow for reviewing the last couple of days and reminding me to work on this! Kristyl lilow, I hope this chapter has a decent cliffhanger – I tried, but I'm not very good at them… :)_

_On another note, I've decided to try and finish this rather than write the other story – I've got notes for it so maybe I'll finish it another time… Also, since I really want to get this posted tonight, I'm universalizing my thank-you's to include: _

_Lucy, Rawriloveyou (lol your name is hilarious), TeamGredandForge, Crystalclearwaterzinmoonlight,Epsilon Scorpii, Runeaglerun, BookWormiie, _

_You guys rock and thank you SO much for the reviews! They give me great feedback and ideas for the story. Keep it up!_

**Chapter Fourteen**

If someone had come up to him two weeks ago and told him that he'd feel down enough to be considered depressed someday, he would have laughed in their face and shared the joke with George. If that person were to tell him that he'd act so cowardly as to turn his back on a friendly acquaintance, he would have probably taken his bludger bat to the idiot and shown them just how cowardly he could be. If that person had also told him that, no matter how he felt now, a life-changing situation could change all of his views on himself, he would have laughed and replied with some naïve and arrogant response.

That'll never happen to me. I wouldn't let some stupid 'life-changing situation' affect me like that. George and I would never let something beat us down to that point.

As it was, he didn't currently have the energy to even laugh at those clichéd thoughts. It was bad enough that they'd been proved to be wrong, and though he longed to kick himself for failing at maintaining those idealistic thoughts, he couldn't. He realized with a pang of resignation that kicking himself would hurt – and he hurt enough as it was.

Fred longed for someone to tell him that all of these feelings and actions were the results of that blasted potion that he and George had made. Every time he thought about it, he grew angry and desperately wanted to pull his hair out in the attempt to rid himself of the guilty thoughts. Those thoughts that he considered to be guilty, at least, were the ones that held hopes that maybe he wasn't such a horrible person because he had allowed all of this to happen.

He knew that there was nothing he could have done about the raw evil that was the Dark Lord and his associates, such as the Malfoy family. He knew that he would never be able to control the actions of other people. But what killed him was the fact that he could barely control his own actions as of late. He mentally cringed as he compiled a long and invisible list of all the wrongs that had happened over the last two weeks. He'd managed, somehow (and again, he hoped it wasn't all his doing), to turn his back on his twin, his family, and many of the beliefs that he had always said with confidence that he'd die for.

Fred started to really regret tightening that pipe. He'd fixed it so that it wouldn't drip at all the night that he returned from making those potions for Snape. Before Wormtail could stop him, Fred had walked over and grabbed the broken object and twisted the loose part to the right, and then he walked calmly back to his cell. He had thought that the quiet would make it easier to think things over and decide what he wanted to do. A few hours after having undisturbed quiet, however, he realized that the only reason he'd managed to not get depressed by the situation so far was that he'd been unable to dwell on the same thought for too long, since the repetitive drip would distract him just enough every time.

With a drawn-out sigh, he wondered when Snape would be back. He hoped the man didn't come to realize how important his visits were getting to be to the trapped teen, since the situation the two were in was already strange enough. He hoped that Snape would bring something along with the remedy to the potion that he'd promised. Though Wormtail had given him something to eat and drink each day, it wasn't nearly as much as he'd been used to having all his life. Fred supposed that it was a good idea on Wormtail's part – the lack of energy that it left Fred with meant that the teen wouldn't be as prone to fighting back. And it was true; his limbs felt like lead and he sometimes barely had enough energy to carry himself upstairs.

He knew enough to not let it overwhelm him though. Falling down and giving up wouldn't get him anywhere. Snape was right about that.

Fred lifted his head up and tilted it to the side as he listened. Every now and then, he would hear footsteps, and he kept wondering if it was the greasy bat of the dungeons. He smiled slightly and shook his head at the thought. All things considered, Snape wasn't acting quite like the nasty bat that Fred would have considered him to act like. Though the man was cold, aloof, and sometimes harsh with his instructions, he had proved to Fred that he didn't want to teen to meet his end here. This was something that Fred didn't truly understand. He couldn't figure if the man was on his side or not, though he eventually decided that if the Potions Master was willing to help him, then it didn't matter what side the man was on.

The footsteps neared the door and Fred sat up, hoping it was Snape and not Wormtail or worse, such as Malfoy. The door opened and Fred almost smiled as the light from above silhouetted the tall, thin figure of his Potions professor.

"Don't spit it out when you drink it. I don't want to have to make another batch just because you fussy Gryffindors like everything to taste like pumpkin juice," the man instructed quietly, handing Fred a vial of blue-green liquid.

Fred took it and sniffed it, finding that the smell was similar to that of an old textbook that he'd found that had been floating in the lake at Hogwarts for a while. It took him a while to think of the words, but 'moldy' and 'dank' fit the potion nicely.

"And this supposed to be…" Fred asked, not bothering to finish the sentence entirely. His head hurt enough already.

"It should reverse any effects of that potion that you took, whether the effects have ceased or are still lingering. After researching it, I've found that any effects that may still be showing will be greatly diminished by this point, though it wouldn't hurt to rid you of them entirely," Snape explained.

"Seeing as how the last potion I took didn't work out quite right," Fred said, holding the vial in front of him and looking closely at it, "you'll understand that I'm a bit nervous at drinking this…"

"I can assure you that the worst side-effects that can come of this potion will be limited to a slight feeling of nausea, and I highly doubt you'll experience even that," Snape responded in a tone that clearly expressed what he thought of being questioned by one of his students.

Fred shrugged and replied, "If you say so, boss." With that, he downed the potion and had to put a hand to his mouth to keep himself from spitting it out. It certainly tasted far worse than it smelled, and he wondered if Snape had somehow planned that. The moment the mixture passed his throat and dropped like molten lava into his stomach, he felt a strange tingling envelope his body.

The burn of the potion turned into the something filled with clarity, and he suddenly realized just how dulled his senses had been before he had drunk it. The taste of the potion, for one thing, was finally describable as his tongue swept over traces of something that tasted like orange. Fred looked up as the room spun around for a brief moment before coming back into focus and he was able to clearly see what he had not been able to before. Rows and rows of ingredients and various potions lined the walls, hidden behind and amongst old, tattered books that he'd not even noticed before. The smells of the room, which had seemed musty and old before, were now filled with the scents of freshly-cut ingredients that he had prepared the day before. Beyond that, he could smell an earthy aroma that lingered in the air, reminding him of a tilled field more than an old, ruined building. He even swore that he could better hear the creaking of the floorboards more clearly than before.

It was the last sense, that of touch, that hit him hardest. He became acutely aware of how much of his body ached and how exhausted he felt. His stomach clenched painfully as he thought of how long it had been since he'd had a real meal, something that only his mum or Hogwarts could ever provide. His eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to control the pain that pulsed along with his heartbeat.

The next real thing that he felt was a hand on his arm, guiding him to sit down on a conjured chair. Glancing up, he saw that Snape was hovering over him with a look that might have been confused as concerned if Fred hadn't known the greasy git better. Fred shook his head a bit at that thought. The man wasn't so bad, especially since he seemed to have found an antidote to whatever the twins had made.

The man had his wand out and was waving it over Fred's head, appearing to run some sort of diagnostic test to make sure that he hadn't accidentally poised the teen. At least, Fred hoped his goal hadn't been to poison anyone. "It appears to have worked," Snape said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Freezing," Fred replied without really thinking about it. It was true though – he'd been cold most of the time while he'd been here, but it felt ten times worse now than it did before.

An awkward moment passed in which Snape handed him a warm blanket and then watched as the boy threw it around his shoulders. Fred pulled it close and found himself wishing that he had one of his mum's ugly sweaters that she always knitted for her kids. Those sweaters, while not fashionable in the least, were just as warm as this near-comforter of a blanket.

"I don't have time to stay any longer tonight," Snape said, looking at Fred with a strange expression. "The first years usually choose the first weekend to test their boundaries, as I'm sure you and your twin are well-aware of."

Fred smirked and said, "Sounds familiar. So, it's Friday already, is it?"

"Indeed," Snape answered. "I will be back tomorrow night, as there may be something going on. I'll advise you again to stay out of the way if at all possible."

Fred nodded and the two remained silent for a few moments. Snape turned as if to leave and Fred spoke up at last. "Thank you," he said, hoping that he wouldn't have to explain just how much he was thankful for at the moment. Snape gazed back at him and nodded before leaving, shutting the door to the basement quietly.

The room was silent and, though he knew it was still cold, he was hidden from it for now by the warmth of the blanket. He wondered if Wormtail would take it from him when the rat realized that it was here. With that thought in mind, Fred stood up and sat in the cell again near an area where he might be able to hide it if necessary. As he leaned against the wall with the blanket pulled around him, he thought on the change that Snape's potion had brought about.

Fred had felt it before but he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it in Snape's presence. Now that the man had left, Fred let the memories of the last two weeks or so come back into focus. Finally, he was able to clearly make sense of what had happened to get him to this point. The emotions that had risen up in him that hadn't felt right were easy to pick out as he thought back on the events that occurred in the Burrow, the floo-chase with George, and here as well.

Just like before Snape had arrived, Fred felt the guilt-ridden thoughts threaten to overwhelm him. He sucked in a shaky breath through his teeth and clenched his fists around the blanket tighter, dropping his head to rest on his knees. Fred held on and didn't move for a while, slowly letting himself calm down until he could think again.

Unlike before, he knew that one major aspect was different now for him. Earlier, that potion had influenced several of his decisions, as well as the way he viewed the events that had happened. He lifted his head up and glared out at the room defiantly. There was nothing he could do to change what had already occurred, but he could at least meet future situations with a certain resolve.

"I solemnly swear," Fred stated clearly to the empty room, "that you idiots won't bother me any more than Percy does."

The first of which was that he refused to make it any easier for them to make his life absolutely miserable. It couldn't be any harder than dealing with Filch, after all. The hardest part would be that he didn't have George here to fuel his resolve, though he felt eternally grateful that George _hadn't_ ended up in the same position that he had. Fred wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for that if it happened.

"I solemnly swear," he voiced, willing his voice not to crack on this one, "that I'll do anything I can to help anyone else that ends up here against their will."

This next resolve existed purely because of the end that the Ravenclaw graduate had met. Fred shook his head to dispel the thoughts, knowing that they would bring him down if he dwelled on them. That wasn't to say that he would ever forget it, however. There was no way that he'd betray someone in such a way ever again, potion or no potion.

"I solemnly swear," Fred said as the emotion welled up in him again, "that I will see George soon."

This wasn't even an option. It was a requirement as far as Fred was concerned. There would be no point in carrying on if he never got to see George again._ 'Besides,' _Fred thought tiredly, _'George'll kill me if I don't give him the chance to do the same…'_

With those resolutions firmly in his mind, he let the warmth of the blanket lull him into a sleep that was as comfortable as he could get.

* * *

><p>If there was one word to describe Lee, it would be "resourceful." George handed him the few galleons that he was able to pry from the hiding places in and amongst his trunk and bed and let the other boy have at it. They hadn't discussed nor decided on much of a plan yet, which was just as well, since George barely knew anything about what would be happening at this "casual event" that the Malfoys were putting on.<p>

On Friday morning, George met Lee at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and sat down tiredly, having spent most of the night reluctantly eluding a great deal of sleep. He turned toward Lee and started to ask if the other teen had acquired some Polyjuice Potion for him when Lee pointed to wear the owls came in from. The two looked up and watched as one of the more standard-looking owls drifted down towards them to land in front of Lee.

Lee grabbed the package and gave the rather perturbed owl a bit of bacon before it flew off. He unwrapped it to reveal two vials of what must have been Polyjuice Potion. "Excellent! And they did send the long-lasting form too, I figured they'd be cheap about it…"

George looked at him and sighed, "You're coming with aren't you?" He'd never actually invited Lee, though he figured that he'd be hard-pressed to find a way to make Lee stay here now, especially since they had enough potion for two people to go.

"Of course I am," Lee answered. "Somebody's gotta keep you from getting into trouble."

George laughed out loud in response to that. He and Fred had been the ones keeping Lee out of trouble most of the time. He nodded as Lee discreetly put the potion vials into his bag and then leaned forward to ask, "Are we still snagging those two goons just before they leave?"

Lee nodded and said, "Yeah, we'll have to skip practice-"

"Bummer," they both commented.

"-and then we'll have to get them away from Malfoy, which shouldn't be too hard. We'll just scare the little shite and he'll take off like the coward he is."

"We should follow them today after class and find out the Slytherin password," George suggested. "That way we don't have to worry about it tomorrow."

"Should we practice some of our distracting techniques, while we're at it?" Lee asked.

George nodded and laughed and, with that in mind, the two went off to Transfigurations. It was a long wait until the end of Potions and McGonagall wasn't cutting him any slack, especially since he wasn't even trying to put his mind back to the lesson. It had something to do with transfiguring… a table… into … he couldn't remember. As they walked away from the class, he ran through a list of ways that they could scare Malfoy into running back to Slytherin. He felt a bit guilty at how excited he was to torment the blonde.

Finally, there were only fifteen minutes until the end of Potions. George and Lee had positioned themselves in a nearby corridor that they knew the Slytherins would take and waited for their prey to walk by. After a short wait, several of the Slytherins walked by, but the three that George and Lee were waiting for weren't in the group. George was just about to suggest to Lee that they go find the sneaky snakes when they heard Malfoy's arrogant voice sounding from up the passageway.

"-believe that they're still allowed in the school," Malfoy said, as if he had all the authority in the world.

The three boys came into view a second later and George and Lee directed several spells in between the two goons and the blonde Slytherin. A loud crack and a bright burst of light erupted and drew a frightened shriek from Malfoy, who took off running in a very predictable manner in the general direction of the Slytherin dorms.

Crabbe and Goyle both stood and looked around with blank expressions until unanimously deciding that nothing else was going to happen. George and Lee had to work hard to cover up their laughter as they tailed the two idiots down into the dungeons. They had to stop a ways away from the door so that they wouldn't be seen, but it wasn't a problem.

George muttered a sound-enhancing charm so that when Goyle said the password (ad meliora), it came out as a shout instead of a quiet utterance. Once again, George and Lee found themselves laughing in the next corridor as the two Slytherins stepped into the common room, oblivious to what caused Goyle to shout.

"That was surprisingly successful," Lee said, "and quite hilarious."

"I'll have to thank Hermione for that one," George said.

Lee froze and turned to him, asking seriously, "You didn't tell Granger about this, did you?"

George rolled his eyes and responded, "Honestly, Lee, I asked her where I could find a useful spell. She said the library had everything I needed. So I looked there."

Lee still hadn't moved. "Wait.. You went to the library? Willingly? And … studied?" He said the last word as if it was a crime, which it really should have been by now.

"I took one for the team," George said, nodding his head solemnly. Lee laughed and the two walked back upstairs, waiting anxiously for the next day.

* * *

><p>Fred woke up and knew it was Saturday. He knew it because Snape was hovering nearby and waiting impatiently for him to get up, and the greasy bat didn't do that on weekdays, since he had to go teach. Fred sat up and looked at him questioningly, wondering why the man was here so early.<p>

Once Snape saw that Fred was awake, he turned around and headed back up the stairs. Fred took this as a cue to follow and made his way upstairs as well. Something about the building felt different now that he wasn't under the effects of some potion, and he looked around at his surroundings with a new perspective. It seemed even smaller now and much darker than before, but that might just be because he noticed more about it now. He noticed more of the doors and windows that were hidden behind boxes and tables, or otherwise so caked in dust that it would take an hour to brush enough away to see anything worth looking at.

Whereas he hadn't felt fear of the place before, he now got a sense of something terrible that was just out of his line of sight. He knew, of course, what it was that was making him feel that way. It bothered him even more now that he didn't know where the Dark Lord was, and he found himself glancing around as if he was expecting the diminutive creature to leap out from behind a threadbare curtain.

Snape reached the makeshift laboratory, which was looking more like a potions lab every day. Once inside, Snape shut the door and walked toward a table that was covered in various potions. Without a glance toward Fred, he said, "You're feeling better."

Fred nodded, not sure how to respond to something that was obviously a question, but that wasn't posed as a question. Snape seemed to appreciate his silent response and motioned for him to stand before the table.

"These potions need to be organized and some of the labels need to be rewritten. Can I rest assured that your knowledge of the alphabet is satisfactory enough to organize these in an understandable manner?" Snape asked, and though the question was full of the usual snark, it was obvious to Fred that the man was using it more out of habit than anything else.

Again, Fred nodded in response. Snape set a small clock on the table and said, "When you're finished, clean as much as you can here before five. Then go back downstairs. Do _not_ be up here after then."

"Why?"

Snape peered at the teen as if debating whether or not to answer the question and finally said, "People may be arriving here later and I doubt you wish to cause any more trouble for yourself than you've already found."

Fred wanted to ask who was coming and why anyone would want to come here, but decided against it. For once, he wanted to stay out of the way so that he could enjoy this period of alertness that hadn't existed when he'd been affected by the potion he'd taken. He didn't really want to do anything that would bring that back.

Snape left after a moment, not finding it necessary to say anything else to Fred, which was just as well. He spent the next few hours re-labeling the potions and then organizing them alphabetically on the shelf. He was thankful that Snape hadn't stayed, for he had accidentally gotten the J and K groups of potions mixed around.

As he worked, he kept a mental log of the potions that he recognized and remembered a few names that sounded interesting. The Denose Potion fell into that last category. He figured that it wasn't a potion that removed one's nose, but had no other clue than that. This train of thought led him to thinking about how a potion could remove someone's nose, which then led him to mixing up the R and S groups of potions.

When he was finished organizing the potions, he looked through the cupboards in the room and found a tattered broom that looked like it had been in existence since before Merlin was around. It at least looked older than Dumbledore. Sweeping the room free of dust proved to be quite the chore. He started in one corner and swept through a layer that was probably a foot thick, which had him coughing and sneezing in agitation throughout the whole process.

He hadn't even realized how late it was getting as he moved across the room. The dust in the air was so thick that he could hardly see and he hoped that he'd be able to find the door when he was finished. At one point, he thought he heard the door open, but he paid it no mind and continued to fight the huge pile of dust that was currently waging war on him.

Suddenly, he heard a sharp laugh coming from behind him and he swung around to see a familiar kid standing just inside the room. It was one of the Slytherin boys from Ron's year. Fred couldn't think of the boy's name, but quickly lumped him in the category of "Slytherins that are rather disagreeable" as the boy kept laughing at him.

"This is fitting, isn't it?" The boy taunted. "You've finally found a job you're good at! Cleaning like a filthy servant for those that are better than you!"

Fred growled in anger and took a step toward the boy before he paused, knowing that the other boy was trying to egg him on. The only good thing about the entire situation was that he was in control of what he did now, not some stupid potion.

The boy laughed again and said, "What? Are you afraid to come over here? Did they teach you your place already?"

"Why don't you come in here? Or are you afraid of dirtying your pretty little boots?" Fred said, trying to employ the same amount of snark that Snape often used. It wasn't as effective, but the other boy smirked nonetheless and stepped inside the room.

"Well, I wouldn't want to make more of a mess for you now, would I?" The boy said and then proceeded to kick at a pile of dust so that most of it flew towards Fred.

Fred swore and jumped forward, shoving the boy into the wall. The other teen, whose name still eluded Fred, swung a punch out, but Fred was quicker. Years of growing up with too many brothers had taught him to not only use his fists well, but to use what was around him. No sooner had the fight erupted than the other boy got a broomstick to the groin and a punch to the face. He fell to the group amidst the dust, creating another cloud that Fred ended up sneezing at.

"Damn dust," he said, waving his arms to dispel it. After a moment, he looked down at the teen before him and wondered what he'd do now. It certainly wouldn't be good to let anyone else here find out what happened, but it wasn't like he could just pretend that it hadn't happened at all. The now unconscious kid would surely tell anyone he could about it.

Fred picked the broomstick back up and looked around, wondering what he would do now. It was just after six now, and Snape would kill him if he weren't downstairs where he was supposed to be. He set the broomstick against the wall and made to leave when the wall of potions that he'd organized caught his eye. An idea formed in his mind and he barely spent a minute thinking it over before he was walking over and plucking one of the bottles down from the shelf.

* * *

><p>George and Lee had been waiting for nearly an eternity for Malfoy and his two goons to make their way to the Great Hall. Finally, ten minutes before six, the three walked past and Lee shot out a tripping hex that caught both Crabbe and Goyle, who fell into Malfoy. George started laughing quietly as Malfoy swore at the two and instructed them to watch where they were going.<p>

Lee hexed them again and again so that they couldn't even make it down the corridor, much to the frustration of Malfoy, who finally gave up and walked off without them.

"Some friend," Lee muttered. He tripped the two Slytherins again as George shot out a couple stunning spells (another thing he'd reluctantly picked up from the library). After they had switched the outer cloaks amongst themselves, Lee pulled out added the hairs to the potion. They downed it quickly as they were stuffing the lumpy Slytherins into a broom closet.

Working through the uncomfortable effects of the Polyjuice Potion, the two boys managed to shut and lock the door while also silencing it in the event that the Slytherins woke up ahead of time. They heard Malfoy shout to hurry up and quickly shared grins of success as they tucked their wands away and dashed down the hall.

It wasn't the most efficient incapacitation that had even happened, but it was effective. Malfoy barely paid them any attention as they hurried up. He was completely oblivious while George and Lee, now Crabbe and Goyle, inspected their dress robes, silently laughing at the lacy parts. It was apparent that these two boys hadn't had their outfits designed and chosen by someone as competent as whoever had thought up the Malfoy brat's outfit.

Not a second later, a quiet, deep voice interrupted their thoughts. "Draco, are you and your friends ready to go?" Lucius Malfoy stood before them and George and Lee had to strain to keep from jumping at the man's sudden appearance.

"Yes, Father," Draco responded. George suddenly wondered whether Crabbe and Goyle called Draco by his first or last name. This also led him to wondering what Crabbe's first name was. He found himself wishing that he and Lee had spent more time planning this out.

His thoughts were put on pause when he heard Lee, who was disguised as Goyle, say, "Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

George echoed the sentiment and was thankful to see a remotely pleased nod given in response. At least the elder Malfoy didn't suspect them yet. He hoped they would make it undetected throughout the evening, as it would be very difficult to explain to anyone how he had ended up at a part of Lucius Malfoy's.

George and Lee, as Crabbe and Goyle, follow Draco and his father out of the doors and down the castle path to the gates. Without a word to anyone, Lucius held out a very rich looking book, which was obviously acting as a Portkey. George shared a look with Lee, wondering if the Ministry would actually approve of anyone using something that looked so nice, but they both wisely chose to remain silent as they reached out to touch it.

With a tug and a sensation of falling, they were off to their destination, which ended up being just before Malfoy Manor. George and Lee stuck close together and followed the two Malfoys into the huge building. George didn't even want to think of how many Burrows could fit into Malfoy Manor. As they walked in, he noticed a number of other people, including teenagers like him and Lee, talking in an adjacent room.

"Go in, Draco, but don't go too far. We'll be leaving for our next destination shortly," Lucius said before leaving for what appeared to be a study of some sort.

Draco turned to George and Lee and said, "Come on, you two. And don't gorge yourselves out on the food this time; you'll make fools of us all."

Lee nodded in response and George felt like laughing, though he supposed it would be more of a nervous laugh than anything else. He held it in and followed the shorter, blonde boy into an even-larger room. Once there, George and Lee tagged along behind Draco and listened half-heartedly as the Slytherin bragged about his home and family to anyone that would listen. George made as if to walk toward the table of food when he heard Draco's voice cut in.

"Didn't you hear me, Crabbe?" Well that answered that question. Draco was not on first-name basis with his so-called friends.

"What?" George snapped as he turned around. He quickly realized that he shouldn't responded like that when he saw the look Lee was giving him, which looked ridiculous on Goyle's face. He tried to pull off an apologetic look and muttered an apology towards Draco, who gestured for them to follow him.

Lee rolled his eyes at George as the two walked, and George wondered where they'd be going. Draco led them into the room that Lucius had disappeared into and were met by two other men, who seemed to recognize them at once.

"Gregory," one of the men said, "do you have your wand?" The question was asked in the manner of one that had been asked far too many times.

George took a guess and nodded, wondering if he was "Gregory" or if that was Lee. Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Not you, idiot. _Goyle_."

Oh. Well then. Lee nodded frantically but didn't pull his wand out, knowing that it looked different than the real Goyle's wand. These men must be Crabbe and Goyle's fathers. It seemed that they were going to accompany them to wherever they'd be going.

Lucius stepped forward and stated, "We are going to introduce you to someone very important. You will be on your best behavior and if you are not, then we will not be responsible for you. Do you understand?"

Draco, George, and Lee nodded together and, judging from Draco's expression, the threat of what would happen if they weren't well-behaved was not something to look forward to. None of them spoke again as they left the building and walked towards what must have been an apparition point.

George and Lee had to refrain from flinching when their "fathers" gripped their shoulders to apparate them away. George shut his eyes and waited for the spinning to stop before he opened them again. When he did, he looked around and wondered what on earth had compelled him to tag along with the younger Malfoy this weekend. Curiosity? An attempt to spy? Gain information? Get himself killed in a creepy little town outside a creepy old building? That last one certainly was _not_ on his list of reasons for doing this.

A sidelong look at Lee told him that his friend felt much the same as he did about their current situation. They weren't given much time to think about it as light shoves prodded them forward.

The boys were led into the house and George noticed that Draco gradually shifted in position so that George and Lee were in front of him. George shook his head at the Slytherin's cowardice before looking around curiously. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to recognize this place or not, though he supposed that it was safe to say that he wouldn't since Draco was openly staring around him when his father wasn't looking.

They stopped in an entryway and the three boys watched as Lucius turned to address them. "We'll be discussing some rather important business. Feel free to explore for now. We'll call you back when we're finished so that you can meet the Dark Lord."

Lucius spoke as if they were going to be greatly honored by this meeting. The elder Malfoy nodded toward the other two men and they turned to go up the stairs without another word. George glanced over at Lee and could clearly see that he was worried at the prospect of what would be happening later. George wasn't too thrilled about it either.

A look at Draco nearly floored him though. If George and Lee were worried, than Draco was downright terrified. It didn't make sense to George, who had always suspected the sneaky snake of being a clone of his father. Perhaps it wasn't so?

Draco looked at him and looked nervous for a moment before he snapped, "What are you staring at?"

George shook his head and watched as Draco walked down a nearby hallway, seemingly wanting to explore the dusty old building. The blonde paused and turned around, looking at George and Lee carefully.

"You're being awfully quiet," Draco commented.

George glanced at Lee and said, "This building's pretty creepy?"

Draco's eyebrows danced a bit at that comment, but he seemed to accept the explanation.

"You don't like it here, do you?" Lee asked, and George nearly smacked him for asking a question like that.

To his surprise, Draco shrugged and said, "It is creepy… and filthy." He kicked the ground for good measure, stirring up a bit of dust. "Too bad there wasn't a House meeting tonight…"

George exchanged a look with Lee and then followed Draco down the hallway a bit further. George knew that he and Lee were going to have a lot to talk about after this experience, providing that they both lived through the impending meeting. A few feet ahead of them, another teen walked out of a room and shut the door. The boy looked like another of the Slytherins from Ron's year and Lee nudged him with his elbow and whispered, "It's that Zabini kid."

"Blaise!" Draco said, sounding happy to see someone else here that he knew.

Blaise, however, did not look happy to see Draco. Blaise froze in place and tracked Draco's movements with his eyes until the blonde was standing in front of him.

"When did you get here?" Draco asked.

"Umm, a little while ago…" Blaise muttered, glancing around and eyeing George and Lee briefly.

"Are you going to meet the Dark Lord with us?" Draco asked. Though he was trying to sound like he was merely making conversation, George could tell he was hoping desperately that Blaise would join him so that he'd have more of his friends with him.

"No," Blaise answered quickly, looking ten times more nervous than he had moments before.

Draco tilted his head and gave him a strange look. "Are you leaving now?"

"Hopefully," Blaise responded, still glancing around as if he was trapped. He looked at Draco again and asked, "Is your, uh… dad here?"

Draco's eyes narrowed even further as he answered, "Yes, my _father_ is here…"

Blaise nodded and seemed to realize that Draco was looking at him like he was crazy. "Sorry, this house is… creepy. Sort of reminds me of my aunt's."

George snorted and said, "You can say that again." An image of one of his stranger aunt's houses popped into his mind and he snickered at the thought of trying to navigate the hallways of that particular house.

"You don't have an aunt," Draco pointed out.

Blaise adopted a blank expression before amending his statement, "I meant my great-aunt."

"I don't think you have any of those either…" Draco stated, still looking at Blaise strangely.

"Whatever," Blaise said, beginning to twist his hands together in front of him nervously. "Have you seen a floo anywhere?"

"What?" Draco asked sharply. "Whatever do you need-"

"Draco," the whole group turned at the sound of Lucius' voice. "And Mr. Zabini, how good that you are able to be here as well. Come."

George felt his heart drop from his chest at that moment and swore ever-so-lightly, and he could have sworn that he heard Blaise do the same. He shared a look with Lee and then proceeded after Draco up the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I'm not that good at cliffhangers, but how's that?<strong>

**And wow it's hard to switch from using a limited omniscient POV to a first-person POV… How'd I do?**

**I will try to update again soon, providing that the local children don't kill me (I'm a substitute teacher, so it's possible). Let me know what you think of this chapter and what you'd like to see next! Or, what you'd NOT like to see next? Hehe**


	15. Chapter 15

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Okay, so first of all, I was browsing through HP fanfiction and found my story and was like "Huh that story sounds kinda famil-… oh shite I should update that…" _

_Enormous thank-you cards go out to…  
>OvercastCrystal – I like the new name – that sucks about your account. FF blocked mine for a while after I wrote a 7 word fanfiction story… Something about trolls… who knows?<em>

_TeamGredAndForge – I'm glad you think it's exciting! I hope this chapter is just as exciting. I certainly had fun putting it together._

_runeaglerun – Thanks for the wonderful review! I hope you like this addition!_

_Lucy – lol… yeah, the whole Polyjuice idea's not really new, but I like to think this is much more intense than sneaking into the Slytherin dorm. I heart your reviews so much and I absolutely adore Draco too! He's too much fun to write._

_Cristina Weasley – lol I hope they get out of this mess too… Glad you enjoyed it!_

_And now, back to the show!_

**Chapter Fifteen**

Albus Dumbledore was often perceived to be omniscient, at least to a certain degree. Whether he actually knew everything that was in a person's mind or not was debatable, but anyone who had ever met him knew for a fact that if he didn't know what you were hiding, he knew enough to make an incredibly educated guess. That, coupled with a gaze that seemed to be able to look through granite, left people of all ages wondering why they would even both trying to hide anything from the old coot at all.

This was how others saw Albus Dumbledore. He rarely grew tired of seeing the widening eyes of children as he calmly asked about their rule-breaking activities with a twinkle in his eyes. He'd worked a long time to develop that twinkle, and he used it whenever he got the chance, knowing that it would either set the other person at ease or thoroughly aggravate them into telling him what he wanted to know. While most wouldn't admit to becoming aggravated by a kind old wizard such as Dumbledore, there was one who would never fail to provide Albus with entertainment in this regard.

"You called me up here to discuss the whereabouts of two of your precious Gryffindors on a Saturday evening."

"They were not present at dinner," Albus responded as if that piece of evidence all the reason he needed to disrupt his Potions Master's evening.

"Many students neglect to follow the school's meal schedule, choosing instead to partake in their own inane activities."

"They were also not present at lunchtime. I do hope that they are not overly hungry," Albus stated bleakly, as if it were a serious issue.

"Then by all means, Headmaster, allow me to find them and offer them cookies and milk. Would you also like me to put them to bed and read a children's story to the bloody brats?"

"What story did you have in mind, Severus?"

The Potions Master put his head in his hands and looked about ready to rip out some of his hair in frustration. Glaring, the man looked up and responded in a kind voice that quickly turned menacing, "Oh, I was thinking about a lovely story in which two children skipped dinner and then went so hungry that they begged their kindhearted, benevolent Potions professor for a midnight snack, but were instead forced to down a number of vile potions to ensure that they would never miss a meal ever again, the _poor dears_."

Albus was shaking his head with a poorly concealed smile at the pure disgust that Severus had put into the last part of his "story." He wondered if he had antagonized the poor man enough, but he was too compelled to hope that all of this banter would someday make Severus into an amiable person to be around. It was a crazy notion, but Albus would hate to not live up to his reputation.

"Severus, my dear boy, I do believe you would make a wonderful father," Albus commented, his twinkling eyes taking in Snape's utter contempt at that absurd idea. "I do have further evidence which I believe you will be interested in, should you wish to earn my two wayward Gryffindors a most unwelcome evening tomorrow." Snape almost perked up at that. The thought of putting students in detention would never fail to intrigue Severus, especially when those students were several of the more rambunctious Gryffindors.

"By all means, old man, indulge me," Severus said, gesturing for Albus to continue with a tiredly waving arm.

"Well, as you know, both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Jordan seem to be absent from the school and –"

"And just how do you know that they're absent from the _school_? How on earth do you glean that from their missing a meal?"

"They missed two meals," Albus corrected him.

"Whatever…" Snape ground out in obvious frustration, wondering at this point why he hadn't just ignored the Headmaster's summons.

"Ah, I have my ways of knowing these things Severus," Albus said, knowing that the vagueness of that statement would draw out an exasperated sigh from his guest.

Severus gave him a look that very clearly said, "Get on with it."

Albus leaned forward and asked, "Did you notice that those two received a package yesterday?"

Severus did let out a groan this time before snapping, "Albus! I don't know why students are allowed to receive packages and I _don't _care!"

"This package came from an apothecary."

The Potions Master gazed at him curiously for a moment before asking, "What was in the package?"

"Well, surely I don't know," Albus responded, sounding as happily oblivious as he could. Across from him, Severus rolled his eyes dramatically and rose from his chair.

"And am I correct in assuming that you wish me to discover what the package held?"

"Oh, I highly doubt it was anything illegal. I'm sure there's no need for concern," Albus replied merrily.

Severus just stared at him blankly for a moment before turning on his heel and marching out of the room. That manipulating old codger was going to be the cause of his death or his insanity, whichever came first.

The closer to Gryffindor Tower he got, the more curious and idiotic stares he got. It was very unusual for a Slytherin to venture up here, much less the head of Slytherin House. Just before he came within view of the Gryffindor portrait, he cast a disillusionment charm upon himself, effectively blending into the wall just before several Gryffindor students came by. As he followed them into the dormitory, he felt a strong urge to wreak havoc of some sort, though he knew Dumbledore would find out.

Severus discreetly walked up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and peeked in until he found the sixth years' dorm. Thankfully, none of the little cretins were there. His search ended just as quickly as it began as he spied a torn and emptied package atop one of the boys' beds. Upon examination he saw that the package had been shipped from one of the less common apothecaries in Diagon Alley, one that he frequented during the holidays to avoid children.

A look at the receipt, which had been shoved haphazardly into the package, showed that the fools had order a variation of Polyjuice Potion. This particular variation provided the user with twice the normal time allowed to be in disguise. A quick assessment of what he knew had him cursing in anger at the idiocy of Gryffindors. The two were not at school, had been absent for at least a good portion of the afternoon, had a fair amount of Polyjuice Potion, and were most likely getting themselves into more trouble than they realized.

Canceling the disillusionment charm, he swore loudly and stalked back down the stairs and into the common area. He hardly noticed the shocked expressions on the Golden Trio's faces as he stormed out, his robes billowing around him menacingly. Once he was back to a floor that wasn't filled with Gryffindors, he stopped and thought about the various reasons why those two idiots would need Polyjuice Potion and why they would go off the school grounds. There were no events that he knew of going on in Hogsmead or even Diagon Alley. The only thing he actually knew about was the Malfoy's party that Draco and his two "friends" were attending. Severus had received an invitation as well, but had politely declined on the grounds that he had children to terrorize over the weekend.

He pulled out his wand to confirm whether or not his thoughts were correct. If the remaining Weasley twin and his friend had decided to go play "spy," then the logical choice would be to tag along as Draco's two goons. Severus refused to allow the shock to display on his face at the thought that any Weasley might be able to make a logical decision. The shocked expression did escape a moment later when his "Point Me" spell revealed that Crabbe and Goyle were behind him.

Severus turned and wrenched open one of the main hallway's cleaning supply room doors. From inside tumbled two very stunned and bewildered Slytherins. The idiot fools were moving their lips silently in an effort to explain how they had ended up there (or perhaps they were asking for food, as that topic would be more expected from these two). Neither of the boys realized that they couldn't be heard, and Severus had to refrain from rolling his eyes yet again that night.

"You fools," Severus muttered quietly, enjoying their wide eyes and now motionless lips, "are a disgrace to Slytherin House. Get to your dormitories and stay there, out of my sight, for the remainder of the weekend." With that, he waved his wand and the silencing spell lifted.

"Professor, we –"

Severus really didn't have enough patience for this job. A glare that conveyed his feelings for their excuses and another silencing spell had them quickly scurrying off for the Slytherin dungeons.

A quick tempus spell revealed that it had been at most thirty minutes since the idiot Gryffindors had left with the Malfoys. With a resolve to have the two errant boys in detention for the rest of their Hogwarts career, he stalked towards the massive doors leading out of Hogwarts, cursing his mentally addled employer the entire way out to the apparition point.

* * *

><p>All in all, Fred figured that he probably could've planned this better, or at least have avoided the situation entirely. As it was, he was stuck marching upstairs to supposedly see the Dark Lord with three slimy Slytherins. He shook his head slightly, wondering if he had actually expected to be able to walk out of here in the disguise of a Slytherin and apparate away, find a floo, or even hail the Knight Bus. Instead, he felt like he was walking the plank, about to jump into a sea of giant squids.<p>

A glance to his left showed a pale, quiet Draco, which wasn't what Fred would expect the boy to be like. He had figured the teen would have jumped at this opportunity. Instead, the younger boy looked like he too was on a plank, though it was probably wider and longer than Fred's. And most likely lined with red carpet. And lights. And there was probably just a sea of dolphins waiting for the Slytherin.

The elder Malfoy stopped them right before the room that Fred knew to be home to the Dark Lord. He briefly considered making a mad dash for the stairs, but ruled it out when he got a look at Malfoy's tight grip on his wand. Lucius ushered them in, giving warning looks to each of them to behave, which Fred found laughable. Behaving well in front of the Dark Lord was like putting on your worst manners for your mum. Fred trailed after the three Slytherins and stood in the musty room before the deformed creature, looking everywhere but at its eyes.

Lucius took a step forward and bowed low to the ground, motioning for the boys to copy his movements. They complied, though Fred noticed that none of the other three looked at ease doing so. The Malfoy boy looked either disgusted or terrified, and the other two looked like they were about to stand up and leave. Malfoy's two goons, who Fred and George had always considered to be dumber than rocks, seemed to be sharing a number of conspiratorial looks. Fred vaguely wondered what they could possibly be thinking about that wasn't food when he remembered where he was. He reminded himself that the current threat was more important than anything those two idiots could possibly be planning.

When Lucius slowly stood from the bow, the boys copied him. Fred thought he heard hurried footsteps coming from somewhere in the house and, a moment later, the door to the room opened fully to reveal Severus Snape. The man looked far too calm considering that his footsteps had sounded so rushed earlier. The degree to which Snape seemed to be conveying an aura of order and control told Fred that something huge had gone amiss.

The Potions professor didn't even spare a glance at the four teenagers, choosing instead to bow to the Dark Lord and then speak the reason for his obviously unplanned arrival.

"My Lord, I have urgent news regarding yours plans for the coming week," Snape said, looking intently past Wormtail and to the occupant of the once-regal chair.

The Dark Lord seemed agitated at the interruption for a moment before he made a motion for Snape to continue.

Snape glanced at the four boys and didn't have to say a word before they followed the elder Malfoy's lead of bowing and then walking back out into the hallway. Lucius shut the door on them the second both of the younger Malfoy's two goons were outside and the four stood in silence for a moment.

George, disguised as Crabbe, ran a hand through his hair and exhaled nervously, showing the emotion that none of the other three boys dared to show. He glanced at Lee and said, "Maybe we should go?"

Fred watched the two, wondering what on earth they were talking about and at what point Malfoy started to let them make decisions or suggestions about what to do. He shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps there was a first for everything, but was caught off guard by the other idiot's answer.

Goyle, who was actually Lee, stared openly at Crabbe and said, "I don't think that'd be the best course of action to take right now…"

At this point, Malfoy was also looking sideways at them in curiosity before he smirked and said, "What are you? Afraid? Perhaps you'd like to go find your mummy and get a hug?" Malfoy glanced at Fred, who smirked as well in an attempt to play the part, and then meandered down the hallway to go back downstairs. It was obvious that whatever Snape had wanted to discuss would take a while.

Fred started to follow after Malfoy when he heard one of the two goons retort, "Oh, bugger off, Malfoy!"

The remark made Fred laugh and he paused to look back at the two discreetly, his respect for the idiots growing by the second. They didn't notice his gaze upon them, however, and Fred watched as one of them rolled his eyes dramatically and picked up a discarded piece of paper to throw at the blonde.

The other one looked at the one who'd spoken as if he was crazy and then asked quietly, "Geo- Crabbe, what are you doing?" Fred felt his mind freeze at those words. It had almost sounded like the one had been starting to say "George," but that couldn't be possible. Fred narrowed his eyes at the two, trying to discern something about them that would explain the apparent slip. The two noticed him staring at them and also froze.

The one with the paper, Crabbe, was staring at him apprehensively. Without taking his eyes off of Fred's, he dropped the paper and replied, "Nothing. Let's go, Malfoy went downstairs…" The two walked past Fred quickly, darting down the stairs to catch up with their fearless leader who Fred noticed didn't look so fearless.

Fred still wasn't sure what to make of the exchange that he'd heard a moment ago, and he decided to see just how normal Malfoy was acting as well. As flippantly as he could, he crossed his arms over Blaise's dark robes and said, "So Draco, tell me… Are you as repulsed by their choice of décor as I am?"

Draco turned to look at him curiously and Fred noticed that the other teen seemed hesitant to answer the question. He evaded it carefully by saying, "It certainly isn't the choice I'd make, but it does do something for the atmosphere of the place, doesn't it?"

Fred snorted lightly and continued, trying to see how far he could push Malfoy. "I'm surprised you're not jumping from excitement at having seen such a … strong and clearly superior leader as the Dark Lord…"

The look that Draco shot him was priceless. It spoke volumes about how uncomfortable the boy felt in this house and around Death Eaters in general. "Shut it, Blaise." The response was quiet, but the warning in those words was clear enough for all of them to understand. Fred felt his eyes narrow again as he regarded the Slytherin, and he wondered if the boy truly believed in all he claimed and said.

The two goons seemed just as surprised by Draco's response to Fred's taunts. Draco seemed to notice this and turned to find something to distract them all with. Just a few feet beyond him was the door that led to the Potions lab. Fred grew nervous as the blonde stepped towards it. The last thing he needed was for these three slimy Slytherins to find the real Blaise and, in doing so, end any of Fred's chances of escape.

Quicker than a seeker, Fred darted over and stepped between Draco and the door, saying, "You don't want to go in there."

Draco immediately resumed his demanding and spoiled nature by putting his hands on his hips and replying snottily, "I want to know what's in there, so _move it_."

Not about to be deterred by a fourth year, Fred leaned forward and said, "You really want to see all the mangled limbs in jars that Snape's got in that room? Why do you think I bolted out of there so quickly?"

That comment made Draco's face go a shade paler. It was obvious to anyone that knew him in school that he enjoyed Potions class, but there was hardly a soul in the school that felt joy when handling, or even looking, at the ingredients.

Draco crossed his arms stubbornly and responded, "Fine, let's go –"

"Draco, it is time to leave," Lucius interrupted his son. Fred leaned against the door in the man's presence and wondered if he'd be able to leave with them. "We will return to Malfoy Manor and then you and your friends may head back to the school. A slight altercation has arisen that needs to be dealt with."

Draco, as well as Crabbe and Goyle, nodded along with the elder Malfoy, barely able to contain sighs of relief at the thought of leaving this place.

Fred wasn't about to let this opportunity pass by. He wasn't sure how much time he had left before the Polyjuice ran out, but he had to make a try to at least get out of this building. "Mr. Malfoy? May I come back with all of you? I'd like to, uhh," Fred stumbled over the words before continuing, "Draco wanted to show me something."

He had wondered if Draco would deny such a claim outright and was therefore surprised when the blonde teen nodded his head along with Blaise's story. Fred wondered if the two had done something like this before.

"Certainly, Mr. Zabini. Retrieve your traveling cloak and then meet us downstairs near the floo," Lucius instructed, and Fred nodded quickly. He waited until they had turned down the hallway before opening the door to the Potions lab, kicking himself for not just taking the stupid cloak with him when he originally left Zabini. He hadn't wanted it to get in the way if he had decided to make a run for it, but he told himself it wasn't a big deal.

Fred opened the door and darted inside to retrieve the cloak, while George and Lee followed the two Malfoys downstairs. They were sharing nearly identical thoughts and expressions. It was going to be hard enough to ditch Draco, but if Zabini were with him as well…

George was also worried that the two Slytherins had caught Lee's slip earlier, when he'd almost said George's name. George could've kicked him for that. At the moment though, he could do nothing but cross his fingers and hope that they'd get to Malfoy Manor and then back to Hogwarts quickly and without trouble.

They reached the floo and Lucius handed a bit of powder to each of them. "You recall the password, no doubt?"

Draco nodded, looked at the bewildered Crabbe and Goyle, and then said with exasperation, "You idiots, it's 'semper ad meliora,' just like last time."

George threw him a look and said quietly, "Couldn't have picked something easy, could you? Something like 'pumpkin juice,' you know?"

Draco rolled his eyes and was just about to throw down his handful of floo powder when Zabini returned. The blonde lifted his eyebrows at his friend and asked, "Where'd the bruise come from?"

Sure enough, the other Slytherin seemed to have acquired a dark bruise across his left cheekbone. The teen smirked and answered confidently, "I was merely getting to know one of the residents." George wondered what the implications of that statement were and watched as Zabini reached forward and grabbed a bit of powder.

Zabini stepped toward the floo and asked, though it sounded more like a statement, "Password's the same?"

Draco nodded at him and in another moment, Zabini threw down the floo powder and shouted, "Semper ad meliora!" The teen disappeared in a flurry of green flame. As Draco, and then the two disguised Gryffindors followed, George couldn't help but wonder about the slight change in Zabini's composure. As he spun away in the flames, he wondered at his and Lee's luck.

* * *

><p><em>It's not that long of a chapter, but it's all I have at the moment. I hope you enjoyed it!<em>

_PS – "Semper ad meliora" supposedly means "always toward better things," and I thought it fit. Perspective is the key in understanding anyone's motives. _

_Please review and let me know what you think! I love to hear from you guys! :)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_I'm so sorry about not updating sooner! I got re-addicted to Criminal Minds and fell in love all over again with Hotch and have been scanning my DVDs looking for every adorable shot of him that I could find! Is this an excuse? I don't know… but it was fun! _

_Fox Berrie, purrtydino, chocolateMnMs, Christina Weasley, TeamGredAndForge, OvercastCrystal – thank you SO much for your reviews! I read them over every time I write to get motivation and ideas and they seriously help me so much! Keep it up! :)_

_I got a few questions about last chapter - The end was actually supposed to be a bit vague, but I wasn't sure how it went… It was my attempt at building suspense or something (I'm rubbish at it though) I hope this chapter goes okay! lol_

_Lucy – I think it's official – I cannot start another chapter until I get a review from you. Fox Berrie motivated me to start it and your review was the one that made me go to Starbucks three separate days for a few hours to finish it. I hope this chapter has a bit more drama – I'm not very good at writing drama, so we'll see. And don't worry about being hyper or confused! I love hyperness and confusion is just fun sometimes! Enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you again! _

**Chapter Sixteen**

George and Lee followed through the floo just after Draco, exclaiming the password as they threw down their powder. The arrival at Malfoy Manor contrasted their previous setting in the same way that the differences between night and day would. Near the fireplace, groups of people were standing in circles talking and their voices blended together above George and Lee as the disorientation of floo travel left them. Just ahead of them were Draco and the Zabini kid, who were motioning for George and Lee to get out of the way of the fireplace.

The two out-of-place Gryffindors stepped apart just as Lucius Malfoy appeared out of the floo. He immediately stepped over to join in a discussion that his wife was engaged in with one of the gathered groups. George watched him go and let his senses be overwhelmed by what was around him. After the revolting visit that they'd just returned from, the Malfoy's home was like walking into a festival; the colorful lights, scents of rich foods and wines, and sounds of quiet music accented with low discussions seemed to come from the walls of this room. Out of the corner of his eye, George saw Lee pull out a watch to check the time. It occurred to him that he had no idea how much longer the Polyjuice would last for and he felt a sudden urge to thank Lee repeatedly for coming with him.

Lee leaned towards him and whispered, "We need to go. I reckon we have about twenty minutes before we're sent back to that horrid place as prisoners rather than guests." George didn't really want to consider the possibly of that happening, and judging from the apprehensive look on Lee's face, neither did he.

George nodded his head in response and glanced around, wondering what course would be the best to follow in order to leave the gathering unnoticed. He supposed that they should probably ask Mr. Malfoy, since it was his house and his floo powder that they would need to use in order to get back. Just as he made up his mind and turned to head towards the man, he overheard Draco laughing at something that Zabini had said and he paused as Lee put his hand on George's arm discreetly.

A glance at Lee told him that he should listen to what Draco and Zabini were talking about. They stepped closer to the two and heard Zabini say, "You'll never believe who I ran into back there!"

Draco smirks and asked, "Anyone we know?"

"You know that Weasley twin? The one that went missing this summer? Bloody idiot jumped me as I was wandering around waiting for you lot to get there," Zabini explained, rubbing the bruise on his cheek.

Draco pointed to the bruise and started to ask about it, but George didn't hear him. He felt Lee grip his arm as if he were trying to hold him back and it suddenly occurred to him that he'd been stepping closer to the two Slytherins ever since he overheard Zabini.

George shook himself briefly, trying to compose himself so that he wouldn't look suspicious. There were more emotions trying to escape him than was healthy at the moment, and he forced them back down in an almost visible shove so that he could hear what Zabini and Draco were now saying.

"I can't believe you let him beat you with a broom," Draco laughed while Zabini glared back at him. "What did you think of the Dark Lord?"

Zabini shook his head and replied, "That's the other thing – the damned Weasel must've stolen some Polyjuice or something because I only woke up when he came back in, wearing my face and my cloak. Too bad for him that he didn't know that I'd woken up and was ready for him," Zabini said, smirking again.

The reality of Zabini's words struck George a second later as he realized that he'd been standing right next to Fred during most of the time that they'd been at that awful building. It suddenly made sense that the other Slytherin had seemed so uncomfortable and tense when he was normally so laid back and confident. This revelation must have been showing on his face since Lee's grip on his arm tightening even more.

A whoosh sounded out behind them which George vaguely recognized as the sound of the floo. He disregarded it in lieu of listening to more of Draco and Zabini's conversation.

"He actually _begged_ me to let him go as me, can you believe that?" Zabini said incredulously, as if the thought of wanting to leave that horrid building was laughable. "I kicked him again and that shut him up until I could leave."

George barely noticed that he was shaking in anger, about ready to whip out his wand and test out every banned, dark, and inexcusable spell his mother and his teachers had ever told him not to use on Zabini. Just at that moment, however, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Lee's as well, since both of them spun around to see who it belonged to.

The anger that George, and most likely Lee as well, felt was only slightly hidden by the shock of seeing the loathed Potions Master standing before them with a stern look on his face. If George didn't know any better, he would guess that the evil bat _knew_ that they weren't Crabbe and Goyle.

Snape looked down at them and said quietly and with a tone that promised that torment would follow briefly, "I do believe that you two owe me a detention for leaving your belongings in such a state of disarray. You can serve these detentions now."

George and Lee merely nodded, though they heard Draco and Zabini protesting lightly behind them. At the sound of the two Slytherin boys, George once again felt the urge to turn and take a swing at Zabini. Almost as soon as he thought it, Snape's hand found purchase on his shoulder and directed him towards the floo.

"Abducting my guests again, are you Severus?" It was Lucius Malfoy. George didn't look up, knowing that he had to try to contain the anger swimming about just near the surface of his control.

"Detention, Lucius. Goodnight," Snape responded while shoving Lee into the fireplace with instructions to head to "Severus Snape's office." Lee spun away and George stood frozen in spot by his professor's grip until the fireplace cleared. A quick shove and dash of powder and he too was off. He didn't trust himself to get a look at Zabini but he swore that he could hear the younger teen snickering as he was spinning away.

He stepped out of the fireplace, stumbling until he was able to grab onto a desk. Lee immediately stepped in front of him and pulled out his watch, looking more nervous than he had back at the building that housed the Dark Lord.

"George, we need to get out of here before Snape gets back. We only have ten minutes left!" Lee explained quickly while pulling George towards the door to Snape's office. He had just pulled the door open when the floo sounded. The moment of hesitation was all it took for them to lose their chance at escape as Snape lifted his wand and the door slammed shut, effectively pushing them back into the office.

"Do you incompetent fools have any idea just how much you risked by taking off on this little adventure this evening? If one tiny, miniscule thing had gone wrong, then both of you would probably be dead by now!" Snape shouted, moving closer to them with each word until he was hovering over them.

Lee started to mutter some sort of apology or explanation, but George wasn't listening to it. His mind was still reeling from the fact that he'd been so close to getting Fred back and he was tearing himself apart for not realizing it sooner when it would have mattered.

"Enough of your petty excuses, Jordan! Not only did you risk your own lives, but if something had happened to you, no one would have known that could have provided any kind of useful assistance! As miraculous as the success of not being found out is, this entire situation has revealed absolutely nothing of use," Snape growled out at them.

George's pent up anger was finally starting to boil over and he erupted fiercely, shoving Professor Snape away from him and shouting angrily, "We did learn something useful, you bloody dungeon bat! We know where Fred is, and all we need to do is get back there and find a way out for him! Which is exactly what we would've done if you hadn't come in and buggered everything up for us!" George roared, pulling out his wand and pointing it at his teacher who had stepped back slightly and crossed his arms.

"Pray tell, Mr. Weasley, do you actually plan on hexing me? Was this your grand plan for rescuing your twin? Do you honestly think that this will be successful?" Snape asked quietly, eyeing George's every move.

George barely noticed as Lee crept out of the line of fire. His sole focus was Snape, as well as trying not to hex the man for all he was worth. The rage and adrenaline rushing through him was not helping him to hold his wand steadily, though he couldn't bring himself to really care about it.

"That's what you want, isn't it? You probably knew where he was all along and have been tormenting him ever since you found out! I wouldn't put it past you to be such a traitor you slimy-"

"I would be very careful with what you accuse me of, Mr. Weasley," Snape's voice cut him off, even though it was much quieter than George's raging.

George bit his lip in anger and then responded, "What? Are you afraid of Dumbledore finding out and firing you? Or better yet, maybe he'll send you off somewhere that you belong, like Azkaban?"

Snape smirked and replied with more sarcasm than he'd normally use, "Yes, I'm positive that he'll find the unfounded words of a _child_ proof enough to dismiss the head of Slytherin House. He may, however, find the actions that you've taken tonight to be much more interesting."

At that moment, the previously locked door suddenly clicked and opened, almost of its own accord. The three occupants froze in their actions to watch as Albus Dumbledore walked in with a grandfatherly smile on his face. He tilted his head towards Snape and George before finally gazing at Lee, who was hiding along one of the walls.

As if it were supposed to explain his arrival, he said, "My ears were ringing just now, and I figured that you must have been discussing my Christmas presents with someone, though these someones seem to appear a bit off. Mr. Jordan, I do believe the look of a Slytherin does not suit you at all," the headmaster said with a small smile. Both boys looked at each other and realized that they still wore the appearances of Crabbe and Goyle. At that moment, however, almost as if Dumbledore had somehow planned it, their original looks started returning.

"Ah, that's much better. Although I do believe that this sight is one that I didn't expect to see when I got here," Dumbledore said as he took in the sight of George pointing his wand at a glaring Snape. "Perhaps I can be of assistance," he offered, opening his arms towards them in a peaceful motion.

George dropped his wand arm to his side and looked at the floor in what was almost a state of shock. He'd been taught to have every kind of faith possible in Dumbledore, but at the moment, he wasn't sure that he could rely on the man to remedy this situation. As he stood in place, he began noticing just how much he'd been shaking and how cold he'd gotten after his arrival at Hogwarts. He wasn't entirely convinced that is was due to the cold of the dungeons, either. The adrenaline rush was starting to leave him and he could feel his energy draining as it left.

Across from him, Snape began to explain the situation to the headmaster. "You were right about these two. Somehow, they acquired Polyjuice potion and impersonated two of my Slytherins so that they could attend the Malfoy's party. This party involved a brief visit with the Dark Lord for a select few, which naturally included Lucius. Apparently the fool brought his son and these two along with him."

If George had been thinking clearly, he would've thought it odd how Snape had spoken of Malfoy and the Dark Lord with such distaste in his voice. Instead, he was desperately trying to avoid letting his emotions take control, though he knew Ron wasn't the only one in the family that could have a terrible temper at times.

"Ah, I see. And what is the reason for this altercation that I've stumbled upon?" Dumbledore questioned further, gesturing towards the raised wands.

"Albus, you let yourself in. I hardly view that as stumbling into a situation," Snape responded dryly.

Dumbledore nodded knowingly and waved to prod the man to explain anyways.

"It appears that Mr. Weasley here belatedly realized the location of his twin," Snape explained meaningfully. "He was just asking me to assist him when you walked in."

George couldn't help but snort at that understatement. At the moment, he felt that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do in order to go back and get Fred.

Once again, the old man nodded his head in understanding, and then he asked, "Did you explain the situation to him, Severus?"

Snape stared back at him incredulously before responding, "I hardly think that it would be appropriate, Headmaster."

"Nevertheless, it could prevent further issues if he knew what the situation was now, rather than finding out on his own much later…" Dumbledore recommended. "Although, I do trust that you know the best course of action, Severus. I'll let you proceed as you see fit."

At this remark, George stared in bewilderment at Dumbledore. The man was going to let Snape decide? He was going to put all of this in _Snape's_ hands? He was shaking his head and taking a step towards the two men before he fully comprehended that he was doing so.

"You're going to let him decide this?" George demanded, his voice sounding as incredulous as the mere idea of trusting Snape sounded to any Gryffindor.

Dumbledore turned towards him and folded his hands together calmly. "My dear boy, Severus has everyone's best interests at heart, and I'm certain-"

"At heart? What heart!" George was fully aware that shouting and saying such things to or around the headmaster was inappropriate, but he was also beyond caring at this point. "And he has no idea what everyone's best interests are! He doesn't give a damn about Fred and I'll bet he's doing all he can to keep his joy from this whole situation showing right now!" George shouted, turning to point an accusing wand at his Potions professor.

Snape, who had been wearing a look that could've killed if given the opportunity, suddenly stepped forward and spoke quietly but with enough force to make George back up a step. "I'll never claim to have any sentimental feelings in my _heart_ for any Gryffindor, but unlike most of you, I have something called common sense that guides my actions. And right now, the sensible thing is to wait for a better opportunity, not to charge in like a fool and risk everything you have."

Snape really should have realized that sense and logic would be neither sensible nor logical to the distraught teenager.

Turning towards Dumbledore, George continued his tirade. "How can you possibly trust this man? He…" George struggled to find the words while also attempting to draw in a full breath of air. "We need to go back, please. That place was terrible… Fr- Fred can't survive that… I wouldn't be able…" He was breathing harshly at the words as he tried to frantically to not show how truly upset he was.

Dumbledore had tilted his head in understanding of George's worry, whereas Snape had reached the end of his patience. George felt a fierce grip on his arm that shoved him into the door and then looked up to see Snape's angered expression glaring at him.

"You seem to want your brother to live and return here, but the things you're speaking of and the idiocy that you participated in tonight could very well kill him! Is that what you want? Do you really want his life to be risked due to the possibility of escape in the form of a thrown together plan that probably won't even work? If you want him to die, there are easier ways!"

Snape's words raked over George, forcing him to divert his gaze from the intensity of Snape's look. That last comment had hurt in more ways than George could count at the moment and he felt his eyes and throat burn in response. Shaking from the stress of it, he attempted to reply, "No, I wouldn't… of course not."

"If you want him back alive, then you need to listen to me and do as I say. Stop acting like the foolhardy and irrational Gryffindor that you are and start thinking about what's really happening and what's at stake. Only with a solid plan will Fred stand any chance of getting out of there alive," Snape practically snarled at him. George was frozen to the spot where Snape had shoved him and he wasn't sure what to make of the man's speech.

"I do believe, Severus, that you've made your point, but keep in mind that the boy is merely worried about his brother," Dumbledore said calmly, as if the rage that had nearly exploded in the room a moment ago hadn't happened. As Dumbledore spoke, Snape stepped back and George's eyes darted towards the door.

George was hardly listening to them at this point. It was obvious that no one would do anything useful tonight and he was reaching his breaking point in dealing with all of it. The stress of the evening and the renewed sense of loss that he felt at being so close to getting Fred back were threatening to overwhelm him and the last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of his friend and teachers.

He tripped over his own feet in his rush to get away from everyone, even though no one was moving to stop him, not even Lee, who had remained silent and unmoving through everything that had just happened. None of the other occupants of the room said a word as he pulled the door open and darted into the hallway, racing up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. George ran faster than he needed to, providing that no one was giving chase, and he fervently hoped that no one else had decided to venture up to the tower as well.

* * *

><p>Fred really wished Hermione was here. While Ron's friend was quirky and way too into books for her own good, she would at least help him in describing his situation accurately. And by accurately, he meant in more descriptive phrasing than simply saying "Bugger it all."<p>

Perhaps "unlucky" would fit. He'd thought he was on the receiving end of luck tonight when he'd managed to overwhelm the Zabini kid and impersonate him in a desperate attempt to escape. Of course, then his plan had gone to Azkaban in only the way that a truly unplanned plan could have. Not only had he run right into the man that had landed him here in the first place, but also his son and two of the blonde's idiot friends. To make matters worse, he had been led up to the last person – no, being – that he wanted to be around for a "meeting."

That was a situation which led to the next word that he could think of: "out of place." Okay, so that was three words, but from Fred's position on the floor of the makeshift potions lab, he couldn't be bothered with such technicalities. He'd been out of his comfort zone from the moment that he'd disappeared from London in the summer. Having to pretend to tolerate Malfoy's existence had been a trial all of its own.

After that came the now familiar feeling of utter confusion. He could've sworn upon Merlin's beard that he'd heard one of the two morons (he couldn't tell them apart) almost say "George." That had frozen him in place until it dawned on him that there would be no reason why those two would say that and that even if they had said it, there was no way that he could pull off a curious inquiry about why they would say it.

The last part of his misadventure was one that he needed help describing. Hermione would probably have a full foot of parchment filled with words on the subject. Idiotic was one word that described it, or so Fred thought. He shook his head painfully as he remembered walking back into this room to retrieve Zabini's cloak. He had somehow forgotten or at least neglected to anticipate any sort of threat that may be waiting behind the door. The blow to the head had come out of nowhere and he hadn't had a chance at fighting back as he fell unconscious immediately.

Fred supposed that he should feel thankful that Zabini hadn't done something to him after that. The other teen could have very easily grabbed a potion and poisoned him on his way out. Fred stopped that train of thought, however, since it was still a possibility that whatever poison he could've been given would react later. As his head pulsed again with pain, he snorted at his good fortune.

He sat up slowly and looked around, grimacing and holding his head as he did so. Fred noticed that the place where Zabini had hit him was bleeding slightly, and he covered it with his hand while pushing himself up so he could further survey the room. His and Zabini's encounter had broken a small number of vials and, as a result, parts of the floor were covered in unidentifiable substances.

He knew that he'd need to clean it up in order to avoid suspicion. If his earlier actions had somehow gone unnoticed, which he doubted, then he'd have to make everything look the part. Stepping towards the damage, Fred grabbed the broom that seemed about ready to fall apart and began sweeping up some of the glass. As he did so, he found himself dwelling on everything that had happened in the last hour.

He had come so close to getting away from this place. All it would've taken would have been a quick floo trip to the Malfoys and then some easy excuse to get back to Hogwarts. Though he knew that he shouldn't feel too upset that the haphazardly thrown-together plan hadn't worked, he couldn't help but feel the frustration mounting in him. Thoughts of getting to Hogwarts and seeing George and his family again caused his grip on the broom to tighten unnecessarily. Before he knew it, his hands were shaking and his movements were stiff as he reached to sweep up another broken vial. The broom wasn't catching the shattered glass, however, and his forceful sweeping finally snapped it in half at the point where it had been damaged before.

Fred cursed loudly and threw the broken broom to the floor in frustration. He glared at the broken bits of glass and crouched down shakily to scoop them up into his hands. At first, his movements were careful, but the more he kept at it, the less careful he became. All of the anger and frustration that the evening had wrought against him was being vented upon the glass in a fury of movement. He grabbed each of the pieces and tossed them into a steadily growing pile that he'd started earlier with the broom.

After getting one area cleared, he moved on to the next with a ferocity that was normally only applied to bludgers. He felt as if his entire body was tingling with anxiety and he needed to quell it somehow. His hands slipped on a piece of glass as liquid, probably the remains of one of the potions, covered bits of the glass. Growing even more embittered by the fact that this small task was trying to defeat him, he reached out and swept his hands across the floor to clear it of the glass.

The nearly frantic activity continued for several moments before Fred could no longer ignore the burning and stinging sensations in his hands. With an aggravated breath, he leaned up against the wall and surveyed the damage for a moment. He cringed as he looked at his hands – there were numerous cuts covering his palms and fingers, and some of the potions had seeped into the cuts which were only adding to the stinging.

As he stared at his hands, he realized that the pain wasn't really as bad as it could be. His head hurt, and his hands ached, but he was far too drained from everything that had happened this evening to really dwell on it too much. Fred surveyed the pile that he had tried to create, which in reality was little more than another mess. He shook his head and rested it against the wall before cringing as the spot where Zabini had hit him rebelled against the action. He sat in that position for a while, hoping that if he didn't move, that no other adjectives that were synonymous with "unlucky" would be applied to him for at least a few more hours.

Fred wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious, nor how long he'd spent sitting against the wall, but he certainly wasn't expecting anyone else to come into the small lab. Considering that, he didn't react at all as his Potions professor stepped quietly into the room. Snape glanced around before letting his gaze fall upon Fred, who hadn't looked up and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon.

With a short wave of his wand, Snape banished the broken glass that still littered parts of the floor as well as the potion spills that were trying to eat away parts of the floor. He stood in place for a moment more, thankful that the teen seemed more in a state of shock rather than in distress. If anything made him uncomfortable, it was students that were overly emotional. He didn't know what to do in such situations and avoided them at all costs, except when those students pointed wands at him and threw accusations at him. Snape's mouth twisted into a cringe as he thought of how overly emotional George Weasley had gotten just a few moments before.

He shook his head and hoped that Dumbledore was right, and that the idiot boy wasn't out planning another equally idiotic escapade. The old manipulator had ever so craftily convinced him to come and check on the situation here, stating that George could be trusted not to be cause for more worry tonight. Snape didn't bother to stop his eyes from rolling at the thought that one of the Weasley twins would willingly stay out of trouble for that long.

He sighed quietly and took in the sight of the boy that was leaning against the wall. The teen looked exhausted and, considering what all had happened, Snape couldn't blame him. He crouched down and pulled one of the bloodied hands towards him so that he could inspect the damage and start working to repair it.

Fred flinched back when Snape touched his hand and then pulled it away hastily, saying, "Don't. Don't bother with it."

Snape looked at him exasperatedly and said, "You'd rather I not tend to these? You'd rather get an infection that could easily kill you here?" After the earlier drama with Dumbledore and the two wayward Gryffindors, Severus' patience had worn down to a nearly nonexistent level.

To Fred's credit, the boy didn't think it worthwhile to argue with Snape's logic again. The boy glanced down, away from Snape, and held out one of his hands for the man to look at. Though he found it difficult to not berate the teen, Snape managed to refrain as he pulled out small shards of glass with his wand. The two were silent as he cleaned and bandaged the wounds on one hand discretely. Snape barely had to motion to the other hand for Fred to lift it up without resistance.

As he was finishing the task, Severus wondered how much the boy really knew about what had happened tonight. It had seemed earlier that Weasley and Jordan had only found out that Fred was here after they returned to the Malfoy's home. It was possible that Fred had no idea that his twin and friend had been standing right next to him as they mirrored each other's insane plans.

Finishing with the boy's left hand, Severus looked into his face and waited to see if he would say anything. Usually, it would only be a matter of time before a lone Gryffindor would crack under such a gaze. To his dismay, Fred neither said anything nor moved at all.

"Weasley, do you realize that-" Severus started to explain before he was cut off.

"I know it was stupid… I just had to try something, and it seemed… it seemed like a good idea at the time," Fred responded dully. He seemed like a man who was about to go dig his own grave.

The admission was accepted, though not anticipated. Severus had actually been about to inform him of his twin's previous location.

"That wasn't what I was going to say, although I do agree that you could have spent more than twenty seconds thinking through your actions before jumping in blindly like…" Severus paused, fumbling for an accurate-enough simile, though it seemed unimportant when he saw how completely dejected Weasley looked.

"Like Harry?" Fred suggested, finally meeting Snape's eyes. "Oh, sorry, you only know him as 'Potter,' don't you?" The comment sounded like it should've been said in jest, but it was said with the same uncaring voice as before. Nevertheless, Severus' eyebrows twitched in response and he shifted where he crouched.

"Indeed," he remarked dryly. He paused before continuing, hoping that what he was about to say wouldn't make the situation worse than it already was. "I'm curious to know what caused your plan to fail," Severus asked in a way of introducing the subject.

Fred nodded to himself and then gestured with his hands to the room while saying, "Zabini showed up and we… we disagreed." That was an understatement and the smirk on Fred's face showed that he knew it, too. "Anyways, I didn't think about the idea when it hit me, I just figured that if I could pass as him long enough to get out of this building that maybe I'd have a chance of getting away. The only problem was that I ran into Malfoy – Draco – and his two bodyguards the second I stepped out of this room."

Snape nodded and gestured for him to continue, already having guessed that much of the story.

"Draco was talking to me and I tried to fit Zabini's role, but I honestly doubt that I fooled them all that much. Those two goons of his sure looked uneasy when I showed up," Fred explained, shaking his head. "Then Draco's father showed up and herded us upstairs, and I can tell you with complete certainly that none of us were really looking forward to that. I think Draco was the most nervous of all."

Once again, Severus nodded, knowing all too well the situation that Draco was in. He mentally cursed Lucius and made a mental note to check on the boy when he returned to Hogwarts.

"The visit upstairs was pretty brief since you came in and interrupted it. Thank you for that, by the way," Fred added sincerely. Severus didn't respond as he thought back to the moment when he opened the door to confirm the suspicions that Dumbledore had suggested about George Weasley and his friend. He'd been shocked at the mere idea and even more so to see that it appeared to have been founded upon truth. He'd had no idea that Fred had actually gone and done the same thing, however. Severus wondered absently if the Weasley twins actually had separate minds or not before shaking his head slightly to hear the teen continue.

"After that, the four of us meandered downstairs. Draco seemed like he couldn't get out of that room or the entire building fast enough. Those two friends of Draco's were also acting a bit off and Draco even noticed it too," Fred said before glancing to the side and moving on. "Later, Draco's father came and said that it was time to go, and I was about to leave with them when he said that I should get my – Zabini's – cloak. That's where it really went downhill. I came back in here, but Zabini was waiting for me. That's the last thing I remember before waking up later in here."

Severus nodded and then stood up, pacing a few times before finally deciding to tell the boy why at least two of the three other teens had been acting a bit out of character. "You said that Draco's friends seemed to be acting differently. Those two weren't Gregory Goyle or Vincent Crabbe. Any guesses?"

Fred looked up at him with a curious expression. That certainly explained some of it, though he had no idea whom they could have really been. 'Unless,' he thought, 'unless there was more to what I thought I heard on the stairs…' Fred shook his head slowly while keeping his eyes trained on the man pacing before him.

Snape stopped pacing and looked directly at him before saying, "It seems that you and your twin share similar ideas about making haphazard, last-minute, dangerous, idiotic plans that have very little hope of succeeding."

Fred didn't breathe for a moment before he started laughing quietly. Of course.

"Apparently, he finds the fact that he and his brother almost got themselves killed tonight amusing?" Snape said to himself, staring at the wall of potion vials.

Fred shook his head and said, "I just find it… very ironic. Which is strange really – I think you're wearing off on me." Fred arched an eyebrow at him and smirked lightly.

Snape didn't have a response for that.

The boy seemed to sober up for a moment and asked seriously, "Is he okay? Is he back at Hogwarts?"

Severus took in the now worried expression and replied, "He's perfectly fine, though quite angry at me and the headmaster, as I'm sure your friend Mr. Jordan is as well."

"Lee?" Fred asked.

"The two were working together, it seems," Severus answered.

Fred was quiet for a few moments as he processed the new information. He was glad that George and Lee had made it back safely, even if he also understood how frustrated his twin must feel. The fact that they'd both pulled the same stunt made him laugh again, though it was more of an ironic laugh than an amused one. A glance toward his Potions professor told him that the man wanted to leave. Thinking about it, he figured that it probably wouldn't look good if Snape were caught spending so much time with him alone.

"Professor?" The man turned back to him and he continued, "If you can, can you thank George for me? For trying?" He wanted to add more, but he knew that even such a simple message would be nearly impossible for the unemotional man before him to pass on. Snape paused before nodding once and then gesturing for him to stand up.

Fred followed Snape back downstairs in silence, only nodding in response to the man's comment that he'd return the following day with more for him to work on. Fred was surprised at his anticipation of the work, but it was mainly because he longed for a distraction from the monotony of silence and brooding that sitting alone brought him.

* * *

><p>Okay guys, please let me know what you think about it. I'm so sorry about taking so long to update, and I'm hoping to have time over the holiday break to spend writing since all my family will be away (yay!) for a while.<p>

Anyways, I'm worried this chapter was lame so let me know if it was – I'll think of something more exciting for the next one, I promise. Thanks to those that review and Happy Holidays to everyone!


	17. Chapter 17

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Big thanks to SolelyReader, TeamGredAndForge, zzmackvb2000 (thanks for the advice!), and Fox Berrie for the awesome reviews! I hope this chapter entertains you all and is better than the last one. That last chapter seriously did not make me a happy camper. This one doesn't either, though for entirely different reasons… Anyways…_

_To everyone else, thanks for reading and I'd love to hear from you!_

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter Seventeen**

Severus had just stepped up to the next level after leaving Weasley below, his mind heavy with thoughts that swirled around the teen. The pure luck that had come together to somehow leave both of the Weasley twins unrevealed throughout the drama that took place earlier couldn't possibly have been random, but Severus couldn't think of anyone or anything that would help the two boys. He moved quietly through the hallway, wondering if it would be possible to leave without seeing the Dark Lord again. He'd been forced to dispense so-called "urgent information" about the Tri-Wizard Tournament in order to get the boys away from the Dark Lord, and he could only hope that the action wouldn't be viewed with suspicion.

Before he could get much further down the hallway, Severus spotted the rat, Wormtail, making his way towards him. Wormtail seemed to be excited about something, and Severus was reluctant to become involved. Unfortunately, he'd been noticed before he could escape.

"Ah, Severus! I need to ask you something!" Wormtail informed him, hunching slightly and holding his hands close together as he peered at Severus greedily.

Severus looked down his nose at the weak excuse for a wizard and responded with a fair amount of contempt, "What is it?"

"We need Veritaserum for a small mission that we've been assigned," Wormtail said excitedly.

"We?"

"The Dark Lord has requested that we go to get information from an old associate of his, one that greatly wishes to be left alone," Wormtail explained, inching uncomfortably close to Severus as he spoke.

"Then perhaps he should be left alone," Severus commented sardonically.

"But we won't even have to do much – we'll have the Weasley brat do it for us!" Wormtail added, seemingly relieved at the fact that no danger would come to himself, but rather, to the lone Gryffindor held below.

Severus felt the nerves in his back tense up briefly before he forced himself to relax. "And when will this mission take place?"

"The day after tomorrow, in the evening."

"On a Monday? Why not later?" Severus' mind was racing with ideas. That didn't give him a lot of time to plan, and from the way it sounded, this mission wasn't going to go too well for Fred.

Wormtail narrowed his beady eyes at Severus briefly before saying, "Perhaps you should bring your questions to the Dark Lord… Severus…"

The glare on Severus' face was enough to warn Wormtail that he'd gone too far. Was the rat really attempting to intimidate him? Severus smirked and held his wand in a supposedly relaxed fashion so that Wormtail could see it.

"Ah, Severus, what I meant was that, obviously, I wouldn't be able to understand his rational… rationiz… err…"

"Rationalizing?" Severus sneered at him, standing up taller so that the other man would see exactly where he stood. "What time will this take place? And Wormtail, avoidance will not be appreciated."

Wormtail shrank back even further before responding nervously, "Around dinner time, I think."

Severus nodded to himself and then walked off to leave without saying anything further. He heard Wormtail sputter anxiously behind him and listened as the rat made as if to follow him. Severus smirked as he sent a nonverbal knee-reversing hex back towards the man before slipping out through the door and into the chilly night. He refused to laugh out right at the fool's attempt to walk while suffering from that particular hex.

Without stopping at his quarters, Severus marched straight up to the Headmaster's office, thankful that the halls were silent and clear this late at night. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he wondered whether he'd get any sleep tonight or not. At least he didn't have class until Monday, but that still only left him with one full day to come up with something that could help Fred.

Severus spoke the password and then began the ascent up to Dumbledore's office. Once inside, he was offered yet another lemon drop.

"Headmaster, I have refused them every time you offer me one, and I can assure you that my verdict will not change."

"Now Severus, surely you wouldn't want me to lose my sense of hope that I hold for you," Dumbledore countered, his twinkling eyes gazing at the younger man who was taking a seat across from him.

Deciding to ignore the old man's comment, Severus began to explain what he'd heard from Wormtail earlier. "It seems that the Dark Lord has plans to retrieve information from an old associate of his on Monday. He intends to use Weasley to get the information, since it appears to include some risk, and he'd rather risk the boy than any of his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore put his hands together in thought and asked for the details, which Severus provided. A few quiet moments passed before Dumbledore spoke again.

"I believe, Severus, that it would be unwise to plan any sort of intervention," Dumbledore said, his eyes fixated on the door to his office. Severus stared back in unveiled disbelief that the man wouldn't even request a slight effort to be given towards helping the teen. Despite his expression, Dumbledore continued on, "With such a time constraint, we will have to hope for the best. The last thing we need is to lose your position as a spy at a time like this…"

"Albus, there must be something that can be discretely planned between now and then," Severus suggested, still amazed that the man wouldn't be the first to suggest something. He found his hands moving before him as he explained further, "We could place a Portkey or sabotage whatever plan they've made."

"I don't believe that it would be the logical course of action to take, my boy," Dumbledore said, the twinkling effect leaving his eyes altogether.

Severus was thrown for a loop by this one. The last thing that he had expected was for the headmaster to completely disregard and give up on the boy. "You mean to tell me that you have no intention of even attempting to assist the boy, much less help him at all?"

In response, Dumbledore raised his hands up and said forcefully, "We will do no such thing and I don't want to hear any more suggestions on the topic, Severus."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster before saying, "How genuinely Slytherin of you, Albus."

Dumbledore lowered his hands and gave Severus a stern look that meant something, though Severus couldn't decipher what exactly it could mean in relation to their current conversation. Before he could question the old man, a quick succession of knocks sounded from the office door.

"Come in," Dumbledore called while Severus turned to see who it was. He wondered vaguely who else would stop by the Headmaster's office at two in the morning.

The door opened to reveal Mad-Eye Moody who, upon spotting Severus, immediately started glaring and accusing the other man of past atrocities that had long-since been cleared.

"Hmm… I do believe that we've established how important it is to know the sources of our information," Dumbledore commented to Moody, though Severus felt that the comment was directed at him as well. He turned to face Severus and added, "Shall we continue our discussion over tea, tomorrow?"

Severus glared at the two of them before nodding and walking back to the door. As he walked back to his chambers, Severus replayed the conversation in his mind. If Dumbledore's first vague statement had been confusing, it was certainly made clearer by the second one. He shook his head as he thought over the conversations he'd had tonight. On closer inspection, it was obvious that Dumbledore wanted him to do something. Then again, the old fool might not be in favor of it. Severus nearly groaned as he realized that he was trying to understand how Dumbledore's mind worked.

He got to his quarters and immediately set to work on thinking up some sort of plan that might work, all the while cursing the Gryffindors that were doing this to him, namely Wormtail, the Weasley Twins, and Dumbledore himself.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Lee had been wandering through the castle in search of George, hoping that his friend hadn't run off to a place where he wouldn't be able to find him. Harry had the Marauder's Map nowadays, so he was on his own as far as finding George went. His first impulse had been to check out Gryffindor Tower, but Lee had almost instantly discarded the idea since George wouldn't want to be seen and harassed anymore than he already had been that night. After that, he had systematically searched various rooms and nooks before reaching the astronomy tower, where he found George.<p>

To tell the truth, Lee almost wanted to leave George to deal with this on his own. He wasn't good at comforting or dealing with other people's emotions like this. That was why Fred, George, and Lee made such good friends. None of them liked being too sentimental, so they didn't even go near situations that dealt with it. As much as he wanted to retreat to the calm and quiet of his dorm room though, he knew that he'd never forgive himself if he left George alone now.

Lee inched forward until he was standing a few feet from where George was sitting on the ground, leaning against the railing. "George? Are you okay?" Lee rolled his eyes at his own question. Of course George wouldn't be feeling okay. He tried again since all he received was silence. "It wasn't completely useless, you know. We know where he is… well, not really, but we know that… he, err… What I'm trying to say is…"

"Lee," George interrupted him, and Lee looked up to find an amused pair of eyes gazing at him. "Don't hurt yourself with the condolences, okay?"

"Oh, shut up already," Lee said jokingly as he sat down on the cold floor next to George. The two sat in a semi-comfortable silence for a few moments before George spoke again.

"Tell me I'm justified in despising Snape right now," George said, fiddling with his robes as he stared down at the ground. Lee confirmed the statement and George added, "How can Dumbledore trust him after all of this? He _knew _where Fred was and he's not going to do a damn thing about it!"

Lee nodded his head in agreement with George's angered statement. "So what will you do now?"

At this, George dug his hands into his hair and pulled in frustration before saying, "I've no idea… Will you believe it when I say that I actually want to go home?"

"Isn't there anyone else we can go to? What about Professor Lupin from last year? He was pretty cool, and Harry sure liked him. Do you think he'd have any ideas?" Lee offered.

George shrugged and said, "Maybe, I don't know…" He trailed off and pulled out a letter from his pocket. Where George had gotten it from, Lee had no idea, but knowing the Weasley twins, they probably had random supplies stashed throughout the school just in case they'd need it someday.

"What's that?" Lee asked, gesturing to the letter in George's hands.

"A letter."

Lee rolled his eyes and specified his question, "Who to?"

"You mean, to whom?"

"Seriously? Who are you, McGonagall?"

"Meow?"

Lee laughed out loud at the last remark and stood up, asking, "Well, are you going to mail it or what?"

George held up a hand and Lee pulled him up as he said, "Yeah, it won't mail itself."

"I wonder if they have self-mailing paper," Lee voiced as they headed over to the owlery. "But really, who are you writing to? Lupin?"

"Nah," George responded, shaking his head. He eyed Lee before saying, "It's for Percy."

Lee stopped where he was and stared at George. "What are you doing that for? He'll tell your mum! He'll get you in trouble! Hell, he'll get me in trouble! Have you lost your mind without Fred here to keep you insane?"

George stopped and met Lee's eyes with a small smile, hardly believing that he'd write this particular older brother either. "He was actually alright during the summer, after what happened. I think he might have an idea or two that we could use, and I know for a fact that he won't tell anyone."

Lee's eyebrows arched up in doubt, but he shrugged an agreement to George and they continued their trip to the owlery. After finding a relatively safe owl (meaning one that wasn't psychotic, asleep, or grumpy), the two boys tied the letter to its leg and sent it on its way.

"Well, hopefully he'll have something useful to say," George muttered as he put his hands in his pockets. The two watched the owl disappear and then stood quietly for a few moments.

Lee nodded and asked George, "Are you going to be okay with this?" He knew he would've been fine without asking the question, but he knew that a friend probably should ask it.

George sighed and looked out across the grounds before responding, "No. I don't think I've ever felt so useless and lost, and I can honestly say that those are my least favorite states to be in."

"It'll be okay. We'll figure out something, or Percy will, since you seem to think he's made himself into something that's not a prat…" Lee trailed off, snickering at the thought of Percy actually being useful for more than knowing the average thickness of a cauldron.

"Hey, let's not pick on him till he reverts back to his previous form."

"What, like a butterfly changing back into an ugly little bug?"

"I'm going to tell him you said that."

"He'll probably tell us exactly what kind of butterfly he'd be and why."

"And how thick their wings are…"

The two looked at each other with tired smiles before turning around and heading back for Gryffindor Tower. With any luck, the rest of the Gryffindors would be asleep and wouldn't bother them tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Sunday morning had dawned brightly, though it was still fairly chilly from the night before. Severus wasn't aware of it at all though, since he had stayed awake most of the night trying to devise some sort of plan that could assist Fred's chances of surviving the following night's adventure.<p>

The best idea that he'd come up with was a way to incapacitate Wormtail so that Fred could steal the rat's wand and make his escape that way. This plan, however, depended on how well Fred would be able to pull off such a stunt. The boy was much weaker than he normally would be, and he would need to get it right the first time. There would be no second chances.

Severus glared at his laboratory dully, frustrated that he couldn't think of anything better at the moment. He had compiled a number of spells and hexes that would make this so-called plan work, but that was providing that Fred actually knew the spells and could perform them correctly. With a glance to his wall of potions, he wondered if he could use any of them to achieve the same goals.

After resting briefly, he proceeded to spend the remainder of the day trying to find a potion that could possibly work with such time constraints and not be detected.

Just as Severus was beginning to start working on the potions aspect of the plan, George was being shaken awake in his bed.

"Oh, come on Lee, it's Sunday… We don't have class today…" George muttered as he attempted to hide his face in his pillow.

"Uh, George, that's not me," Lee's voice sounded from across the room.

George sat up slowly and then recoiled back as he realized who was perched next to him, staring at him anxiously. "Percy! What in the world are you doing here?"

"Oh, will you keep your voice down?" Percy responded. "I came as soon as I got your letter. What in Merlin's name were you _thinking_? You could have gotten yourselves killed!"

"Percy," George said in a placating voice, "I didn't write you so that you could give me one of Mum's lectures."

Percy sighed and sat back on George's bed. "Well then, why did you write me? There's not much I can do, though I think there's something you should do."

"What's that?"

"Go talk to Professor Snape." At this, George crossed his arms and glared at Percy while Lee chuckled. Percy ignored them both and continued on, "It's lucky he got there when he did or you probably wouldn't have made it back here. You owe it to him to at least be thankful for that."

"Percy, you don't understand. He absolutely refuses to do anything to help Fred. He won't take me back or say anything useful at all. And what's worse is that Dumbledore seems to fully support whatever Snape decides!" George ranted, wondering at what point he had decided that it would be a good idea to write Percy. He figured that it must have been due to the exhaustion he felt last night.

Percy sighed and said, "George, I think there's more to it than what you saw last night. Things that no one's allowed to say anything about, and if Dumbledore has chosen for something to not be discussed or done, then there's probably a very good reason for it. We just have to trust him on that, like Mum and Dad do."

"I'm getting a bit tired of putting my trust in people."

Lee stepped over and asked, "Isn't there anything we can actually do? Other than just stay out of the way?"

"If you want to jump up and take action, then go talk to Potter. That's his department," Percy commented dryly. "I think that it wouldn't hurt to think of a few well thought-out plans that Professor Snape and the Headmaster could consider. And I mean," he added when he saw George's expression, "that _they_ would consider them and then act accordingly, not you two."

George met Percy's eyes and asked, "Do these plans have to be conventional? Because I can think of a great number of interesting ideas that they might not think of at all."

"Do you have parchment and ink?" Percy asked, and with that, they started listing off ideas and things to explore further. Percy wasn't sure what to make of Lee and George's suggestions, but he tried to find the rationality in them nonetheless. The combinations of Percy's and George and Lee's approaches were interesting, to say the least. Nonetheless, the three boys were able to look at each idea from a different angle and examine it, which George found incredibly useful. The three worked together for a while before taking a short break to go to the kitchens for snacks.

On their way back up, Percy attempted to get George to go by Snape's office, but George refused to even go near the Head of Slytherin.

"You do realize that you're going to have class with him tomorrow, right?" Lee commented.

"Maybe we'll luck out and he'll be sick."

"Doubtful. He survives that greasy hair all year long without feeling ill, so it'd have to be something pretty extreme," Lee said and George snickered, drawing a half-hearted glare from Percy.

Percy stayed for a while longer before he had to go to work and he left with the promise to continue researching the ideas further. George and Lee piled the parchments together and flipped through them as they sat on the floor of the dorm room.

"I'm not saying that this isn't helpful, but it's not the way that I want to be helpful," George said as he read over one of the earlier ideas that they'd written down and then quickly scratched out.

"Tell me about it," Lee muttered half-heartedly, having grown tired of writing and thinking for the whole morning. "What do you say that we brainstorm out on the Quidditch pitch?"

"I'll race you there," George said, jumping up to find his broom. Lee was quicker though and bolted through the door and down the stairs ahead of him. George smiled after him and then looked to the stack of parchment with a sigh. He was grateful to Percy for coming and helping in his own way. It had at least distracted him from his thoughts of the night before effectively so that he wouldn't get too negative about it. He shook his head and then headed for the door when he heard Lee shouting to hurry up.

* * *

><p>Monday came far too quickly for everyone. Students in Hogwarts that had forgotten to do their homework hurriedly completed it at the breakfast tables while the professors downed cups of coffee that would hopefully keep them awake through the drama of the day. Severus had given up on the coffee much earlier in the night and had taken to glaring at anyone that looked at him too closely.<p>

Far away from the school, Fred was growing nervous. Wormtail had shown up and pushed him upstairs to work on cleaning the kitchen area out earlier than was necessary the day before. After that, several mundane chores had been assigned to him by Wormtail, who stood nearby the whole time to "encourage" him to complete them in a timely manner. The two had already gotten into several arguments that had ended in either a harsh stinging hex or otherwise painful reminder to stay quiet. Fred never enjoyed that particular instruction, however, and didn't really think it necessary to follow even with the occasional reminders.

What was making him nervous was how busy Wormtail was keeping him. It was as if the man was trying to wear him out or get everything that could be accomplished done in record time. On top of that, Fred hadn't seen Snape at all, even though the man had promised to come in and give him something to do. Fred longed to work with the disgusting potions ingredients in lieu of working anywhere near Wormtail.

"You're not finished yet, keep going!" Wormtail's whiny voice invaded his thoughts. Fred groaned and turned around to glare at the hunched figure in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I keeping you from having tea with your mum?" Fred asked sarcastically. A sharp and intense pain to his shoulder made him twist around away from the cause for it and he sucked in a breath as the pain seared through him.

"You just wait till tonight comes. You'll be begging to do more of this work instead of what we have planned for you," Wormtail sneered at him as he halted the hex.

This was another thing that was worrying Fred. Wormtail had hinted to some event or another that was supposedly going to happen tonight, but he wasn't saying anything concrete about it. Every time that Fred had questioned him about it, he had received the same sharp pain to one area or another on his body. He was getting more tired of that than he cared to admit.

A glance outside told him that it was sometime around midday, which suited Fred just fine, since Wormtail would have to stop to eat something eventually. At least, he hoped that would be the case. A quick prod to the back gave him his answer and he heaved a sigh of relief as he headed back downstairs to his cell. Finally, he would get some rest and then hopefully Snape would show up. The man was a day late as it was.

Wormtail left him alone after that and Fred spent his time alone contemplating the reasons for the sudden workload. Wormtail's cryptic comments coupled with the busywork did not bode well, and Fred desperately wanted Snape to show up and let him know what was going on.

The hours dragged by in silence, and Fred grew more and more nervous as the time passed on. Every little noise that came from the area above him made him jump slightly and strain his ears in the hopes of hearing Snape. It reminded him of the times when he and George had been hiding from Snape in the hallways after curfew, though in this instance, he actually _wanted _to see the professor.

Finally, he heard the familiar sound of Snape's voice coming from nearby the stairwell. With the amount of disdain in his voice, Fred assumed that he was talking to Wormtail. A scurrying set of footsteps echoed away as the door above him opened and Snape started walking down the steps, carrying something that Fred hoped was food of some sort. Wormtail's excuses for food were nothing to brag about. Fred stood up as Snape came closer to him.

"Do you know what's happening tonight, Weasley?" Snape asked him abruptly but quietly while handing him what was indeed something delicious to eat.

Fred grabbed a sandwich and took a bite while shaking his head. He swallowed and then verbalized it just as quietly, "No, but Wormtail's been hinting at something all day though."

Snape leaned forward and whispered quickly while glancing to make sure that Wormtail wasn't coming back. "I don't know the details, but they're going to have you do something that has a great chance of getting you killed. If you want out, then you need to try to overpower Wormtail and get his wand. I won't be able to help you, do you understand?"

Fred was chewing another bite and didn't respond. Snape was looking at him intently and made as if to smack the sandwich out of his hand when the boy took another bite and slowly chewed it. "You want me to overpower a man with a wand and then somehow get away, even though I've no idea where I am or even how to apparate?" he asked tiredly.

The man held up a hand to silence Fred as he listened for Wormtail. Fred took another quiet bite of the sandwich before Snape turned back and held out a goblet of what he hoped was pumpkin juice. With a skeptical glance at it, which was countered by a stern glare, Fred picked it up and downed it. He thought that it tasted a bit off, though it had been a while since he'd had anything decent to eat or drink around here.

Once Fred finished the drink, Snape banished the goblet and left him to eat the rest of the sandwich alone. Fred wasn't sure what to make of Snape's actions, and he was more nervous now than before of what was to come. Overpower Wormtail and take his wand? Fred shook his head and resolved to pay attention to the rat-like man's actions for the right opportunity. It'd have to be when they were alone, or else he wouldn't stand a chance at all.

He had just finished the sandwich when Snape and Wormtail reappeared on the stairs. Snape opened up the door and gestured for him to head up the stairs behind Wormtail. Fred threw a look in Snape's direction; it was one that he hoped conveyed the sense of building panic at what was coming. All he was met with was a sneer fit for Snape's classroom.

Unlike the very recent drama involving the Polyjuice Potion and Zabini, Fred felt unusually nervous about everything that was happening. He put it down to the fact that neither he nor Snape seemed to know the full story of what would be happening. Not to mention that if anything went wrong, it would be his life that would be forfeited whether it made sense or not.

He came to a stop in front of Wormtail on the main floor and realized reluctantly how hard it was to make his hands stop shaking. Surely that couldn't be caused by how he felt? He hoped that it was due to the temperature, but he doubted it at the moment despite himself.

"Alright Weasley," Wormtail started to say while attempting to emulate some sort of strong and confident persona which he wasn't succeeding at. "You're going to be getting information for the Dark Lord, from someone that doesn't want to be visited."

Fred found his voice in time to ask who it was that didn't want to see anyone, but was glared at from both directions and quickly told to be silent by Wormtail.

"There's a set of questions we need answered here," Wormtail informed him, handing over a piece of slightly stained parchment that had a number of questions listed on it. "You'll bring them to him along with this to drink. Call it a gift from the Dark Lord," Wormtail said with an ugly grin as he handed over a small bottle of wine that was probably laced with something. "Any questions?"

Fred had a lot of questions. Could he go home instead? Can't someone else do this, say, someone with a wand to defend themselves, perhaps? Couldn't they just invite whoever it was over for tea instead of sending him out to meet this person that would probably end up killing him just out of irritation? Fred knew he wasn't good at not irritating people and wondered again at his luck. Instead of voicing any of these thoughts, however, he merely nodded his head.

Without any further conversation, the trio headed out the door and into the cool night air. Fred breathed in deeply, having missed out on it ever since he'd arrived here. The only air he'd gotten had been contaminated by the dust and mold of the building. The moment didn't last long as he felt a hand grab his upper arm and then the disorientating sense of apparition overwhelm him.

They spun off and landed a few moments later in a clearing that seemed colder than the area that they had just left. Fred took a moment to find his balance again before looking around. Through a gap in the trees he could see an old house looming a short ways away. He assumed that this must be the place that he was being sent to.

He began to panic slightly as Wormtail's hands began shoving him forward. As he was doing this, the man was listing off threatening reasons why not to simply attempt to run away. Fred glanced at Snape and saw the man move his head as if to say that this was his only chance.

Fred turned around and shoved Wormtail back and away from him. The man hadn't been holding his wand, but he pulled it out the second he righted himself and pointed it straight at Fred's heart.

"Go now and don't try that again!" Wormtail nearly shouted, his voice laced with a fear of retribution if this mission were to fail.

"No!" Fred shouted back and, trying not to think about it, he charged Wormtail and grabbed his wand arm in an attempt to take the wand. The two struggled together for a moment and Fred heard Wormtail call out for Snape to help him.

Snape's voiced drifted over them as Fred kicked Wormtail as violently as he could with the little energy he had left. He grimaced as he realized how little it affected the Death Eater. "My, Wormtail, if you can't manage to subdue a wandless teenager, then I'm afraid that there isn't much help for you."

This apparently made Wormtail angrier than he was, for the enraged man suddenly grabbed Fred's arm and bent it awkwardly while shoving him away. Fred stumbled onto the forest floor in shock and looked up to see Wormtail pointing his wand at him with more anger than Fred ever wanted to be subjected to. He felt a terrifying sense of cold drift over him and barely heard the words that Wormtail screamed out through his fear.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Fred knew no more.

* * *

><p>Oops… Review?<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Remember me? I am SO sorry for abandoning this and all of you for so long! Stupid life… Anyways, I hope that everyone is doing well and that you're still interested in this story. To any new readers, welcome and please let me know what you think! I am worried about this chapter because it was hard to write for me… they all are, but nevertheless… _

_LOL Cristina Weasley ~ Ha habido un error en capítulo 16 – lo siento. Ahora, me intento revivir a Fred. How's that for google translate? My Spanish… muy terrible… someone review in Japanese, quickly!_

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Thanks for all your help there, Snape," Wormtail bit out as he lowered his wand. Across from him in the clearing was Fred, who had dropped to the floor just moments before. "Now we'll have to deal with it ourselves."

Severus sneered at the other man and replied, "I do believe that you should be the one dealing with it, seeing as how you were the incompetent fool that could only subdue a mere child by killing him."

Wormtail glared but said no more as he moved in the direction of the house. Severus clenched his hand into a fist as the filthy rat stepped over Fred's body. As discreetly as he could, he moved his wand over Fred's still form as he crept past the boy. He had worked tirelessly in an effort to somehow prevent this situation from happening, and though he had tried to prepare for it and had done all he could, he wasn't entirely certain that it had worked. There would be no way to check if he had cast his own spell over Fred until Wormtail was clear of them.

Grudgingly, he trudged up the hill behind Wormtail while considering if sending out a Patronus to Dumbledore would be cause for suspicion. The old man would surely be impressed with his desire to help the boy, even though the headmaster had expressly told him to steer clear of it for his own good. His thoughts were interrupted by a blast of wand light that shot towards them. Wormtail dove out of the way dramatically as Severus put up a shield to protect himself from it.

"Have you been taking lessons from Potter, Wormtail? Diving out of the way when you have a perfectly functional wand on you?" Severus scoffed at his unwanted companion.

Wormtail ignored his comment in favor of firing back his own spells at their opponent. It seemed that they were not welcome, and Severus found himself hoping that the encounter would go poorly for Wormtail so that he could verify his suspicions about Fred. At this point in the situation, Severus was almost more curious to see if he could have found something to best the killing curse than he was worried about the boy's actual life.

Growing tired of the barrage of spells and hexes that were coming their way, Severus fired off a blasting curse that decimated the front porch of the house, if it could be called a house, which caused their opponent to stumble out onto the grass. The man was paper thin with dull, brown hair and would have looked completely normal if not for the slightly deranged look on his face.

He whipped his wand around and sent a curse toward the two Death Eaters that looked toxic in nature, but the spell was cut short by another of Severus' shield spells. He was about to fire a stunner at the enraged man when a brilliant blast of green light lit up from his left. Their opponent dropped to the ground as the killing curse struck him, not even having the time to look surprised at his defeat.

Wormtail was breathing harshly with his wand still pointed at the dead man when Severus commented dryly, "And how, pray tell, do you intend to get the information that we were sent to retrieve?"

The rat-like man stuttered angrily before turning to march back to the clearing that they'd originally arrived at. Severus once again found himself in awe of the man's sheer intellect.

The clearing was completely silent as they stepped into it and Wormtail headed straight to Fred's body. Against his will, Severus found himself holding his breath in worried anticipation of what Wormtail would do or find. The spell that he had cast just as the killing curse was cast had not been noticed earlier, since it was nearly invisible unless one was looking for it. Regardless, if Wormtail found evidence that Severus had somehow tried to spare the boy…

Then again, he needn't worry. Wormtail was an incompetent fool after all.

Wormtail pressed his fingers to Fred's neck and almost recoiled at the touch. "He's already cold as the night!"

Severus released the breath he'd been holding at the knowledge that the spell he had cast at least worked in one way. Feeling the need to mock the idiot once again, he said, "What did you expect, Wormtail? As is usually the case, bodies tend to lose their heat when you kill them. I imagine his temperature would be much more tolerable if you had been capable of something other than murder…" At this, Wormtail directed a glare his way. "Granted, I can only imagine how terrifying he must have seemed to you. A boy with no wand and little else in the way of defense… The Dark Lord will surely be impressed."

He could tell that Wormtail wanted nothing more than to snap at him to shut up, but even the rat knew better than to tempt him. Still glaring ridiculously, Wormtail stood and said, "Let's get back already."

With that, the other man disapparated from the clearing, leaving Severus alone with Fred. He stepped towards the teen and waved his wand diagnostically, looking for any signs that he had succeeded in possibly saving the boy's life. Just as Wormtail had done before, he rested two fingers against Fred's neck, quickly becoming shocked at just how cold his skin was. Beneath the freezing chill that completely surrounded Fred, he could read nothing. No signs of life at all.

Severus stood slowly and lifted his wand to send a Patronus out to Dumbledore. He stated their location and, with a last glance at the frozen teen on the floor of the clearing, he too disapparated.

* * *

><p>George and Lee had reluctantly traversed the hallways to Snape's classroom that morning, neither of them really feeling up to dealing with potions this early on a Monday. Percy had left just after breakfast with assurances to write them if he thought of anything while he was at work. Since there was nothing the two sleepy Gryffindors could do, they stood just outside the door with their equally sleepy classmates, wondering how and why they had managed to be early enough to have to wait.<p>

"I think we may have jinxed him, George," Lee said quietly, using his wand to check the time every few seconds in the hope that class would be cancelled.

"Either that or he's got something truly dreadful planned for us…" George remarked.

A rather annoying Slytherin girl giggled and said, "I hope he'll teach us to make love potions someday!" A few other girls, and sadly, even some Gryffindors, laughed and giggled along with her.

Lee rolled his eyes and commented, "Ha! Any love potion that Snape would make would be sure to disappoint you!"

"Perhaps he'd make a potion to make you fall in love with 'the subtle art of potion-making'," George added, snickering.

"Or a potion to fall in love with people who only have greasy hair!" Lee said, laughing outright at that idea.

"Or maybe even a potion that-"

"Would enable you to understand the language certain creatures, such as birds?" An amused voice cut in over George's comment and everyone paused to look over.

"Headmaster!" Someone exclaimed. The old man was standing just behind the crowd with his phoenix, Fawkes, on his shoulder. When he smiled at them and moved to open the classroom door, everyone had to refrain from actually cheering and whipping up some confetti to throw. George and Lee didn't refrain, naturally, but everyone else tried.

Dumbledore stood at the door as the students entered and when George walked by, he said, "Good to see you feeling a bit better today, Mr. Weasley."

George smiled at him before taking his seat next to Lee in the front of the classroom. Yesterday had done him some good, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud. Being able to discuss things with his closest friend and one of his family members yesterday had released some of the pressure that he'd been feeling on his chest as of late. That wasn't to say that he wasn't still upset and worried about his twin, but it felt that the loss was easier to bear now than before. Granted, he knew more of the situation now. He had seen Fred just a few short days ago, albeit he hadn't recognized him, but regardless of that, he had seen him and it looked like he was okay.

As reluctant as he was to the idea, George realized that the best thing he could do was to help think of ideas and wait for something to happen. Just the thought of waiting made his heart ache and he leaned over the desk for a moment to collect his thoughts. He had to believe that he'd see Fred again soon and that his twin would be alright.

He glanced back up to see that Dumbledore had spelled the ingredients to today's potion on the board. The old man's wrinkly face smiled out at them broadly before pointing to Fawkes, who was still on his shoulder. "Many of you have seen Fawkes before. Fawkes is a phoenix, and this form that he is in is fairly matured, which is probably his most beautiful phase. Do any of you know anything else about phoenixes?"

A Slytherin student to George's right raised her hand and said, "Their tears can heal, can't they?"

Dumbledore awarded Slytherin five points before adding on, "Indeed they can. They can stop even the most deadly venom, as one of Hogwarts' students has already observed." The Gryffindors smirked at this, knowing the old man was speaking of Harry Potter. Of course Harry would get to experience that.

Lee raised his hand enthusiastically to provide more information. George chuckled quietly at him, though he too recognized that this was probably their only chance to _gain _points in Potions class. Dumbledore motioned for Lee to speak with a wave of his hand.

"Can't they transport you to different places?" Lee asked.

Dumbledore seemed to laugh a bit before saying, "Now I believe your actual Potions professor would say something along the lines of, 'Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Jordan?'"

Lee grinned and responded, "No sir, I think he'd probably just take points." The rest of the class, even a few Slytherins, snickered at that, mainly because it was true.

"Indeed though, you are correct. Fawkes has provided me aid to travel quickly several times, though when I do, he tends to want several treats…" Dumbledore trailed off and looked sideways at the phoenix. "I must ration yours treats, my friend, lest you become too large to carry us both."

Fawkes trilled indignantly and flew off of Dumbledore's shoulder, only to land on the back of Snape's chair.

The class laughed at the interaction between Dumbledore and his pet for a moment before Dumbledore asked them another question. "Now tell me, what do you think would be a benefit of being able to speak to creatures in the bird family?"

Everyone thought for a moment before George raised his hand and, when called on, answered, "You could ask them if they've seen anything from the air, if you're looking for something."

"Excellent idea, Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore exclaimed, awarding Gryffindor another five points. George and Lee shared a look, knowing that Snape would be enraged to find that two of his tricksters had managed to earn points in his class.

"Today we'll be brewing this potion and then trying it out to see if we can ask Fawkes a question or two. If everyone can get their supplies and get started, we should be able to finish nearly halfway through class, at which point you can either leave early or continue to pester my dear Fawkes."

Everyone's faces held grins at the thought of a shortened Potions class and it wasn't long before the class got to work. The potion looked fairly simple since it only had about six ingredients, but the mixing of those ingredients was more complex than they were used to. The Headmaster was very helpful though by walking around and offering tips and pointers here and there. It was obvious from his extensive knowledge of this potion that he himself had brewed it a number of times.

After about forty-five minutes, nearly everyone had a perfect potion and those that did not, had achieved at least a satisfactory result. Dumbledore said that theirs may translate the speech into a slightly different dialect, but not to worry, since it was only their first attempt at it. He gave them a few minutes to brainstorm a question or two, and then he told them that once they had one in mind, they were to drink a small gulp of the potion and ask Fawkes something.

"What are you going to ask Fawkes?" Lee asked quietly.

George shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I guess I could see what it would take to bribe him to poop on all the Slytherins." This comment was met with an amused, yet disapproving look from the Headmaster, so George smiled apologetically and looked back down at his table.

"I'm going to ask him what the funniest thing is that he's ever seen the Headmaster doing!" Lee laughed.

Just at that moment, while most of the class was still devising their questions, a bright light shot out from a corner, startling some of the other students. Several people recognized it as a Patronus, while several screamed and backed away from it. As it got closer to Dumbledore, George and Lee could see that it took the form of a doe. The doe stopped just a couple of feet from the Headmaster and everyone was silent as the old man bent his head as if listening to something.

Dumbledore's face, old and wrinkled as it was already, drained of color and he turned to look directly at the doe. He nodded his head gravely and muttered, "Thank you, my friend." As he did so, the Patronus dissipated where it stood and Dumbledore stood upright and gazed out at the class.

"Students, forgive me, but I must take leave as an urgent matter has come up. Please be responsible and clean up your areas, bottle your potions, and leave them for Professor Snape." With that, the Headmaster strode out of the classroom and left the confused students where they stood.

"What do you think that was about?" Lee muttered as he started packing up his ingredients.

George looked at him blankly, his mind firing through all of the possibilities. The only thing that he could think of was that it could possibly be about Fred. If that was true, then there was no way that George was going to stand by and do nothing.

"Lee, I have to go check," George said, already moving towards the door.

Lee opened his mouth to speak but shut it as George had already left the room. He turned to Angelina and said hurriedly, "Can you please please please pack up our stuff for us?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran after George. He bolted up the hallway in time to just overhear George asking Dumbledore about the message that he'd received.

"Was it about Fred? Is everything okay? Can you-"

Dumbledore stopped and turned to face George, looking much older than he had five minutes ago. "Yes, my boy, the message was about your brother. And before you ask, no, I cannot take you with me to where I must go."

George seemed frozen in place, unable to say anything. Lee stepped forward and asked, "Is he alright? Are you bringing him back here?"

The two Gryffindors noticed that the twinkle had left Dumbledore's eyes, and George couldn't stop a terrible sense of foreboding that was creeping through his heart.

"I will bring him back here. Meet me in the infirmary if you will," and with that, Dumbledore again swept off up the hallway.

Lee turned his gaze towards George and noticed that he looked terribly pale. Lee couldn't blame him for being worried; the look on Dumbledore's face and his complete evasion of the question about Fred's wellbeing was somewhat alarming. Though Lee could understand how George would immediately think the worst, it was still alarming to see his friend be this pessimistic about anything.

Gently, Lee took George's arm and guided him up towards the infirmary. He was thankful that everyone was currently in class at the moment, except for the rest of the Potions students who were probably still cleaning everything up. The walk to the infirmary was spent in silence, which worried Lee even more, though he knew better than to try and disturb it.

Madam Pomfrey greeted the two boys quickly and led them to sit near the windows so that they wouldn't be in her way. They watched halfheartedly as she bustled about, trying to clear up things that had been left out and also leaving some things out that had been put away. Lee concluded that she must have known about the reasons behind Dumbledore's abrupt departure. The whole time that she spent moving about the infirmary, George hadn't said a word.

They hadn't been there more than twenty minutes when the doors to the infirmary opened once again. This time, Dumbledore walked in with Professor Lupin of all people following behind him. George shot to his feet, not from seeing his old professor, but from seeing what he was carrying in his arms. It was Fred.

George hurried over to the bed that Lupin was laying Fred on and stood next to him, staring at his twin's face. Fred wasn't awake, and he looked more pale and worn out than George felt. Several small scratches and a bruise littered Fred's face and arms, and his clothes looked like he'd been wearing them for weeks, which he probably had. He also noticed that Fred was much thinner than he used to be. He wasn't overly so, but it was a distinct enough difference from how George looked that it was obvious.

Cautiously, George reached out to pick up Fred's hand. The second his fingers touched his twin's skin, he recoiled, staring at his brother dumbly for a moment. Fred's skin was frozen to the touch. Earlier in the hallway, George had felt a foreboding squeezing his heart, but that was nothing compared to the terror that gripped him now.

Fred's skin was frozen. George felt along his wrist for any movement, anything that would show that he was alive. There was nothing. He could feel himself slipping and distantly noticed that someone had pushed a chair up for him to fall into. Shakily, he moved a hand up to touch Fred's face and felt that same frozen chill again. Breathing grew more and more difficult as he held his hand still over Fred's face in a desperate attempt to feel something, even one small breath of air flowing out, but again, there was nothing.

George couldn't breathe. He gripped Fred's arm that was closest to him with both hands and pressed his face against his twin's chest. He felt himself shaking and though the chill was intense, he knew it wasn't just that.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, a hand that was shockingly warm compared to Fred's skin. George didn't look up. There wasn't anything that he needed to listen to and there certainly wasn't any point in pretending to care. Nevertheless, the hand stayed where it was.

A gentle, calming voice washed over him and he found himself reluctantly grabbing onto each word as it they were little lifelines in the sea of despair. "My boy, all may not be as it seems…"

George wanted so desperately to believe that, to welcome the thought and let hope resurface in his mind. The hand move in small circles on his shoulder and the comfort only made George choke back a sob and grip his brother's arm tighter. Despite the pain though, he kept those words circling through his mind. 'All may not be as it seems…' he thought, 'all may not be as it seems…'

It took all of his willpower not to scream at the old man, 'What the bloody hell else could it possibly mean!' Instead of vocalizing the thought though, he simply nodded his head slowly and clung pathetically to that small bit of hope.

* * *

><p>Okay, I realize that this chapter is shorter than usual, and I apologize, but it just felt like the right place to end it and I was getting depressed anyways. Please drop a review and let me know what you think, what you liked or disliked, or just tell me how your day was! I love to hear about peoples' days!<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_Oh my goodness… I've been watching videos of "Marik plays Bloodlines" on youtube (yes I'm a nerd, no surprise there) and when I was writing this chapter, I kept hearing the words in my head in Marik's voice… with occasional bouts of "foxy boxes." I apologize now if anything feels remotely not right – Marik made me do it. _

_For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about – go watch it on youtube. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially KCRedPanda98, Fox Berrie, TwinFan, Misila Weasley (new name - I like it!) and Purrtydino. Also... Bratney… seriously… lol I love you!_

_I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than others that I've posted… Please let me know how it goes…_

**Chapter Nineteen**

After nearly twenty minutes of watching every one of the people that filtered through the hospital wing, Lee determined that a different people's reactions to stressful events was yet another one of those things that would never be ranked in terms of how normal each reaction was. Each person seemed to react to Fred's presence differently and each and every single one of the expressions that Lee got a glimpse of made his muscles tense more and more.

Madam Pomfrey bustled about busily, and it seemed that she was trying to keep herself occupied so as not to dwell too much on Fred's situation. Ginny and Ron had since been informed and had arrived, and both of their reactions vaguely surprised Lee. He had expected Ginny to be more emotional over her older brother, but the opposite was true. She seemed to freeze in place, slowly letting her eyes roam over everything as if trying to find the explanation without having to hear it, while Ron nearly sank to the floor in shock at it all. The Headmaster, who had left earlier after several hinting words to George, had looked grim, though his wasn't a look that conveyed complete loss of hope for the situation at hand.

Initially, Lee had felt ready to cry at what he and George had found. He didn't remember leaning against the bed next to Fred, but at some point he realized that his throat had stopped burning and his entire body was becoming very sore as his muscles grew tenser with each look he got at someone else. He stayed in his position and watched as George slowly leaned forward and rested his head on the mattress next to Fred, his hands still wrapped tightly around his twin's now pale skin.

Another hour swept by, and Lee noted that Ginny and Ron had since taken seats on the side of Fred's bed that was opposite to where Lee perched himself. He looked up as the doors to the infirmary were pushed open and immediately looked away when he saw Mrs. Weasley's panicked expression search the room for her lost son. Her distressed cry broke through the silence of the room as she ran to the bed. Ginny and Ron pushed back to make way for her, but Lee noticed that George didn't move at all, not even to lift his head and acknowledge his mother.

Mr. Weasley approached after his wife, stepping quietly, nearly silently in comparison to Mrs. Weasley, to stand behind her. He let one hand fall to rest on his wife's shoulder while his free hand flew up to cover his eyes. Lee could tell he was trying hard not to react to what he was seeing.

They all stayed like this for several moments before the Headmaster stepped back in. Lee noted that his expression hadn't changed a bit. In fact, it looked even more perplexing than it had before. He spoke softly over Mrs. Weasley's quiet sobs over her son, asking all of them to join him in his office. For a long moment, no one moved at all, until Mrs. Weasley straightened up and wiped her face with a tissue that Mr. Weasley handed to her. She stood and turned to face the Headmaster, motioning for Ginny and Ron to stand as well.

Dumbledore peered over at Lee and spoke quietly, "If you would join us as well, Mr. Jordan, I would appreciate it." He glanced at George, who still hadn't lifted his head at all, and motioned for them to leave before him. Lee stepped forward and, before leaving the wing, looked back to see Dumbledore gazing down solemnly at Fred and George before turning to follow the group up to his office.

Lee looked back at his friends and suddenly drew in a deep breath, unaware that he'd been breathing so lightly all this time. Suddenly, he was thankful that he was leaving the space, since he wasn't sure that he would be able to refrain from breaking down at the sudden pain that breathing it all in had upon his system.

* * *

><p>George knew that he should acknowledge everyone that had come in. He should lift his head up and stand up and give his mum a hug. He should go comfort his little sister, since he knew that despite not showing it, this would hurt her more nearly as much as it hurt him. He should say something to Ron so that he would stop that pathetic sniffling.<p>

He knew he should do these things, but he couldn't bring himself to care at all. The only thing he could focus on was how completely freezing he felt from holding onto his twin's arm and how it made so little sense that Fred's skin was that cold. Beyond the recognition that it didn't fit though, he couldn't piece any other thoughts together beyond the shock of loss that he was trying hard to avoid thinking about.

George felt at the moment that if he moved an inch that he would break into hysterics of tears, laughter, anger, and complete and utter fear. Tears from the fact that this couldn't be happening, that none of this was supposed to happen, and that it certainly shouldn't have ended in this way. Laughter from the sheer audacity that Fred had to show up like this. Anger at the words that Dumbledore had spoken earlier and at the hope that they instilled despite all the odds. And lastly, the fear that he knew would consume him if he dwelled on it at all.

When the Headmaster had returned again and summoned everyone to his office, George knew that the old wizard wouldn't dare to approach him. He heard his parents rise along with his two younger siblings and, surprisingly, Lee. The quiet sound of the infirmary doors being pushed open echoed loudly through his mind as his family and friend left. George felt the stare that the Headmaster directed his way but failed to react in any way that would acknowledge him.

Quiet footsteps faded from his ears and all was silent for a short while. George couldn't even hear Madam Pomfrey, and he wondered if she too had left with the others.

A while later, his ears picked up the soft sound of boots hitting the floor and drawing closer to where he was situated. The footsteps stopped on the other side of Fred's bed and George swore that he could feel a shadow fall over him. He shivered, and he couldn't honestly say if it was from the cold emanating from Fred's skin or from the obvious presence of whoever had just arrived.

Curiosity finally got the better of him after a stretch of time trying to hear anything from whomever it was that had stopped by. At this point he wasn't even certain that he had heard someone walk up. George slowly lifted his head to gaze at the space on the other side of the bed and was shocked to see Professor Snape standing rigidly next to the bed.

The Potions professor seemed out of his element, standing in a place meant for grieving with an expression that only spoke of curiosity and, strangely enough, caution. George suddenly realized how tired he felt and knew that he didn't have the energy to be angry at the professor's presence. Instead, his curiosity only grew.

Professor Snape pulled out his wand slowly and cast a diagnostic spell over Fred's frigid form. It strongly resembled the one that George had seen Madam Pomfrey using earlier, though this one looked like it had been specified for a particular purpose. Snape appeared to have found whatever he was looking for as he nodded and reached a hand into one of his pockets. In his hand was a small vial of bright red liquid that looked as if it were on fire within the vial.

Snape moved his gaze from Fred's body to meet George's eyes. At barely a whisper, he said, "I imagine that the Headmaster, being the interfering old coot that he is, has planted some absurd idea of hope in your mind."

George held his gaze before glancing away and nodding lightly. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of resentment and despair at the thought that such hope was misplaced.

The professor lifted his wand slightly but paused and said, "I had preferred not to be forced to resort to this, and I will not make the claim that what I have created will be successful for not. It was the last possible route that I would have wished to take, since it is the most dangerous. However, the situation at the time left this as the only option left available."

At this point, George was thoroughly confused by what his Potions professor was saying. The words made him want to believe that there may in fact be some hope left, though the professor had also shot down that train of thought almost immediately. The way the man was looking at him now made George feel as if Snape were asking permission to try whatever it was that he had devised. That, in and of itself, was strange enough for George's curiosity to spike. Morbidly, he thought that he had little left to lose, so he straightened in his chair while still keeping a hold on Fred's hand. He met Snape's stare resolutely and waited for the man to do whatever it was that he had planned.

Professor Snape held his wand over Fred's chest and muttered a long string of Latin that George didn't recognize. At one point he realized that it was a single phrase that was being repeated but altered slightly each time. He wondered vaguely what the words meant.

The incantation lasted for several more moments before the professor lowered his wand and directed it to the vial in his hand. Using a spell that should be used whenever one must ingest a potion, he spelled the contents of the vial into Fred's stomach. George watched in fascination as the fiery liquid seemed to dart through the air until it disappeared beneath the sheet.

Snape hid his wand and stood in place again, watching for any signs of change to come about. George held his breath and peered intently into his twin's pale face. Searching for any sort of change, he finally noted how wrong it was that Fred's skin looked so lacking in life. The complete absence of expression seemed to remove a large portion of Fred's identity.

Moments passed with no change and George nearly felt his heart shatter as his professor slowly lowered himself into a chair and rested his chin upon his clasped hands, still gazing at George's brother. For the first time since seeing his twin and feeling the complete lack of life that possessed Fred, George felt tears gathering and threatening to spill, and he squeezed his eyes shut in denial. His lungs burned and it was all he could do to regulate his breathing so that he wouldn't break into a complete mess in front of the dreaded bat of the dungeons.

In an attempt to prevent the dam from bursting, George tried to focus on the extreme cold that seeped from Fred's skin in the hopes that it would also freeze his reaction. As he gripped his brother's hand, he realized that he must have become accustomed to the cold since he only felt a slight chill coming from the skin. He shook his head that even that horrible sensation had abandoned him when he actually wanted it.

The sob rising in him froze in place as he heard Snape jump up and move about the room quickly. George opened his eyes and looked to see the professor grabbing several blankets and throwing them towards Fred's bed. George looked at him in honest confusion until the man spoke.

"Tuck those in around him. His body temperature is rising, but it won't return to normal for some time, so we must assist it," the Potions professor said, sounding doubtful of his own words even as he spoke them.

George gripped Fred's hand again and realized that Snape was right. Fred's skin was getting warmer. Though he had no way of knowing if Snape's plan was going to work out completely, the fact that _something_ was happening was more than enough to send George jumping to help tuck the blankets in around his brother, all while still gripping his hand.

Halfway through pushing a second blanket around Fred, George felt the hand within his twitch slightly. He froze in his ministrations and looked down at Fred's hand, which twitched again briefly, before looking up into Fred's face. His twin's brow was bunched together and George watched in amazement as Fred groaned lightly and turned his head in George's direction.

It wasn't long before there were at least four blankets tucked around Fred's form. George stood in anticipation and alternated between gripping his brother's hand and running his hand through Fred's hair. The warmer his skin got, the more Fred seemed to be reacting to the cold. He was now shivering intensely, more so than he ever had after hours of snowball fights as a child.

Snape cast another diagnostic spell and announced that Fred's temperature was slowly returning to normal, but that he would suffer from chills for an indeterminable amount of time. George hoped that it wouldn't go on for too long, but at this point he would take anything over the freezing stillness that had reigned before.

Professor Snape cast a different kind of spell over Fred and said, "I believe he may awaken shortly." There was a sense of hesitance to the professor's voice that drew George's attention. Snape met his gaze levelly and spoke quietly, "You must realize that even if this can bring him back, there may be further damage that would not have been able to be avoided."

George knew what he meant by this. Instantly, the fear from before came sweeping back upon him and he felt himself dreading the moment when Fred actually woke up. As he stared at the sheets, he sensed the professor stepping back and making the leave the infirmary. George wanted to call out to him, to thank him for what he had done, or at least attempted. It was more than anyone had been able to do, and yet, George couldn't get his voice to form any of the words.

Instead, he pulled the covers back and crawled into the bed alongside his twin, holding Fred close as the sharp sting of cold fled from around them.

* * *

><p>Severus let the doors to the infirmary swing shut behind him as he made his way to the Headmaster's office. If he were a person with less self-control, he figured that he would probably go off and find Wormtail right then and inform him of how completely inept he was at murdering even a defenseless student. He refrained, mainly because doing such a thing would cause Wormtail to attempt to prove this accusation untrue and that it would identify Severus as interfering with the Dark Lord's work.<p>

Nevertheless, he was both shocked and proud that what he had planned was actually coming to pass. If all went according to plan, then Fred would awaken soon and hopefully be back to his normal self.

Severus stopped walking as that thought entered his mind. He didn't want the boy to go back to his normal self. Perhaps he'd be changed just enough to be bearable this time around.

He strode up the rotating steps to the Headmaster's office and knocked quickly on the door. There was a quiet pause from inside the office before Dumbledore's voice beckoned him to come in. Severus strode in and paused alongside the chairs that held the distressed Weasley parents. He noticed the two younger children as well as the twins' friend were seated glumly on the couch across the room.

"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore greeted softly, his tone much affected by what had happened.

"Headmaster, I'm sure you remember what we discussed before the weekend," Severus said, eyeing the old wizard's reaction. Dumbledore lifted his eyes to look at him and nodded twice. "I admit that I neglected to adhere to your advice, however, the results may be more than worth it to you."

At that, the Headmaster smiled lightly and asked, "Of course they are, Severus, most of what you do never ceases to amaze me. Would this particular revelation be appropriate to share now?"

"I believe so, Headmaster," Severus said, nearly rolling his eyes as the twinkle lit back up in the old man's eyes.

With that, Dumbledore stood abruptly and clapped his hands together, which shocked the present Weasleys to attention. "Let us return to the hospital wing. I believe there may be something interesting awaiting us."

The sheer look of confusion on Molly Weasley's face would've seemed humorous on any other day, but as it was, she allowed herself to be directed back to the door of the office by the newly energized Headmaster. The group walked quickly back to the hospital wing with Severus and Dumbledore trailing behind the Weasleys.

As they entered the hospital wing behind the small, confused group, the Headmaster leaned over and said, "I am very interested in hearing how you have accomplished this feat, Severus." Madam Pomfrey, who by now was incredibly curious, leaned in to listen as well.

The Potions professor nodded and replied, "I used the combination of a spell and a potion to create a planned form of the boy's death. The potion released his soul from him, though not completely. You could relate it to the muggle saying of having an 'out of body experience.' I imagine he felt somewhat disconnected after drinking it."

"You gave this to him beforehand?"

"Yes. The spell was applied a split second before the killing curse hit him. That spell was an instant freezing charm that was meant to preserve him until his soul could be completely returned to him," Severus explained.

Madam Pomfrey lifted her hand and pointed to Fred's bed, which was now surrounded by others. "Is there anything in that spell or potion to account for the damage that could be done just by waking up from that sort of ordeal?"

Severus shook his head slowly and replied, "That is the only concern that I have, and it can only be checked when he awakens."

The Headmaster glanced back at him and asked softly, "What potential damage could there be?"

Severus hesitated briefly before stating, "The area with the greatest risk of sustaining damage would be his memory. The combination of the shock of this sort of a situation as well as the ingredients that were necessary for the potions to work does not bode well, though there is a possibility that he may overcome it."

Severus finished speaking and glanced over to where the Weasleys were bunched when he realized that they had heard everything he had said. The looks on each of their faces made him want to deny what he had said, even though he knew that the odds were against them. Knowing that, he stepped towards them all and said, "The only way to know for sure is to see how he is when he wakes."

George had since sat up a bit in the bed so that he could see everyone more clearly, but now he focused all of his attention on his twin. The entire group looked on anxiously as Fred opened his eyes slowly and blinked several times at the bright light of the infirmary. Severus could hear nearly everyone hold their breath as the newly resurrected teen lifted his eyes to gaze at his mirror image that was staring down at him in shock.

* * *

><p>Dun dun dun…<p>

Okay, so I need to know what you guys want! Should there be some lasting damage? Should we just have a happy ending already? Should this story already be over? Should he eat a chocolate frog and spontaneously combust? TELL ME!

Again, sorry for the short chapter – I have no excuse except to say… foxy boxes. That is all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title: Beware of Potions **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Summary: Fred and George create a new product in the summer before their 6****th**** year, but when one of them samples it, they find that it has far different effects than they'd hoped for.**

_I am so sorry about the long wait. But it's done! This is the final chapter, and I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. Many thanks to those of you that read and reviewed the last chapter! Every time I got a review I started thinking about this chapter, so it really helped. Anyways, please let me know how you like it!_

**Chapter Twenty**

The two brothers met each other's eyes for a long moment before Fred's eyes slid from George's to everyone else and finally landing on Professor Snape.

Sensing that the obvious tension would soon be broken in a way that might hinder Fred's recovery, Snape quietly motioned for everyone else to leave. George ignored the hand that waved in his family's direction – he wasn't going anywhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Headmaster gently guiding his parents out of the hospital wing. Ron looked about ready to protest, but a single glance at Professor Snape's face silenced any attempts that might have been made.

George watched as everyone aside from his twin, himself, and Professor Snape left the wing. After a moment of nervous silence, he glanced back to the bed. Snape sat to Fred's left, gazing across the hospital wing in thought. George didn't think he'd ever seen the man look nervous, but he looked anything but fully prepared for the situation at hand. Snape sighed and turned back to Fred, who was still staring at the Potions professor. With a quiet voice, the professor asked, "What is your name?"

Fred's expression didn't change for a moment, but then it was obvious that he was confused as his brow creased. He finally moved his gaze from Snape to the sheets covering him on the bed. "I…" he started to say and then clenched his fist around the sheet unconsciously. Just as George felt the dread start to overcome him, Fred unclenched his hand around the sheet and looked back at Snape. "Fred. Fred Weasley."

George let his eyes slip closed in relief and he swore that he heard Snape breathe a similar sigh of relief, though the man would most likely never admit it. "And what is the last thing you remember, before now?" Snape asked, this time with a slightly more confident tone than before.

Fred sat up a bit and inhaled steadily before flicking his gaze to the right and saying, "Something about… a forest, there was this ridiculously idiotic man…" At that comment, George swore he saw Snape bite back a laugh. "Were you there, professor?"

Fred turned a curious eye towards Snape at which the man confirmed his question and prodded him for more information. "The last thing I remember is this bloody freezing cold hitting me and then…" Fred trailed off and looked up to meet George's eyes. "And then you," Fred added quietly. The look on his face was completely unreadable to George, and that fact terrified him.

Snape looked ahead again and, after waiting a few moments to see if Fred would say anything else, asked, "Where are you now?"

Fred turned his eyes from George's face and glanced around once again before saying, "Dunno. Smells awful though," Fred leaned back again and closed his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Snape asked in the same monotonous tone.

"Like I've been hit by the Kil- that's it!" Fred shouted the last part and sat straight up, his hand flying to his chest. "That… that… what's his name? Wormtail! Merlin, did all of that really happen?"

George's expression didn't change as Fred slowly recollected the last few things that he'd experienced. The constant chant of "let it be temporary" had sprung up in his mind and was running on repeat.

Fred seemed to be remembering more and more details from the moments before he'd been "killed," and was describing the last few things he'd seen and heard to Snape. He hadn't glanced back at George yet, continuing instead to speak to Snape, who was now dividing his attention to both of the twins.

George knew he shouldn't say anything, that he should let things come back to Fred as they would, but he couldn't help it. Interrupting Fred's description of the forest that they'd apparently been in, he asked insistently, "What else do you remember?"

Both Snape and Fred turned to look at George, who by now felt that all his hope was riding on the answer to this seemingly simple question. There was a moment of strained silence before Fred shook his head slightly and looked down, saying quietly, "I – head hurts…"

George absolutely refused to let Snape see him get upset by this. And he couldn't spend even one more second getting glances full of confusion and caution from his own twin brother. Without a word, he pushed away from the bed and stormed out of the hospital wing. Just outside the doors were the rest of his family, and it was all he could do to shove through them and keep walking.

Behind him, he heard his mum asking what was wrong, and despite how much worry was laced in her voice, he couldn't bring himself to explain it. Instead, he made his way to the Astronomy tower, thankful that by sheer luck it was actually dark outside and completely empty.

* * *

><p>Severus watched as George stormed out of the hospital wing. In all honesty, he was surprised that the boy had managed to hold that question in for as long as he had. To see one of the Weasley Twins be so quiet and thoroughly confused unnerved even him, and he never considered himself to be a person that would appreciate their ridiculous behavior.<p>

"Professor?" Severus turned back to Fred's questioning gaze.

"Your memory seems to have been affected by the spell that I cast on you," Severus explained, though it didn't really help clarify anything for Fred.

"When I try to think back…" Fred started to say, but then paused, as if he had lost what he was going to say.

"Do you recall anything before the forest?" Severus asked. "Try to think about all of your senses, not just what you saw, but what you felt, heard, or smelled."

Fred thought back beyond the forest that he could picture much more easily now. Before that he had the distinct impression that something terrible had happened. The sense that he had done something truly stupid hit him and he couldn't stop the words that rushed out of his mouth. "What was I thinking? I should know better…"

Severus focused his gaze on the boy and held his breath for a moment.

"You made me drink this foul potion!" Fred exclaimed.

If Severus had been so inclined, he would have rolled his eyes and let his head fall onto his hand in exasperation by now. As it was, he just gave Fred a rather dead-panned look and kept trying to pry information out of him. As the two spoke, it became obvious to Severus how the boy's memory had been affected.

When he was asked questions about events that had happened long before this latest adventure, Fred was unable to recall a single detail. Though Severus noticed that when he questioned about things that happened in chronological order from when he had been 'killed,' he was able to piece his thoughts together and remember what had happened. 'Now,' Severus thought, 'just sixteen years more to go through until he's back to normal.' They had already been doing this for nearly an hour. The thought nearly made him groan in frustration.

"And that was when we decided to sample the potion… which I guess in retrospect wasn't such a great idea," Fred summarized as the details from the disaster that led to all the drama came back to him.

Fred had failed to mention anyone in his family by name so far, so Severus questioned him further. "Who do you mean by 'we'?"

The boy answered without even blinking, "George and I, of cou-"

Severus watched carefully as Fred froze for a split second at the revelation. His eyes darted back to the end of the bed where his twin had been standing earlier and when he saw the empty space, he nearly jumped out of the bed.

"That was George! Where is he? Where'd he go?" Fred nearly shouted as he rushed to disentangle himself from the sheets. Severus didn't move from where he sat as the teen struggled with the sheets before finally falling out of the bed altogether and crashing to the floor.

"By all means, speed your recovery by throwing yourself out of bed," he commented with more snark than was perhaps necessary.

A muffled, irritated voice drifted up from the floor on the other side of the bed. "By all means, don't feel like now would be a good time to start learning those people skills…"

Severus did roll his eyes at this, now that there was no chance that any Hogwarts students would witness it. He stood and walked to stand in front of Fred and gazed down at the teen that was still struggling to get up.

"Your body was frozen instantaneously, hit with the killing curse, and now your memory has been affected, and you believe this to be a good time to go for a walk?" Severus asked with an arched eyebrow.

Fred stopped trying to push himself up and glared back at Severus. With a sigh, the teen said with barely restrained sarcasm, "Pretty please, Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to help me up so that I can find my brother?"

"Which one? You practically have a dozen."

"…" Fred held his gaze before finally saying, "No I don't… I don't think there's that many… I meant George anyways."

Severus extended a hand and said, "Sit down for a moment while I ask the Headmaster where your brother has run off to." Thankfully, the teen actually did stay seated on the chair next to the bed as Severus opened the door to the hospital wing and gestured for Albus to come in.

"Severus, how is he?" Albus questioned quietly once the doors were shut.

"His memory is coming back," Severus answered, "but it goes in order back from now. He had to remember everything that happened in the past few weeks before he could even remember that he had a brother. Now he is wanting to go find him."

Albus nodding knowingly and said, "Understandable. Would you be so kind as to escort him to the Astronomy tower, my boy?"

Severus felt his fingers in his wand hand twitch, not only at the irritating misnomer but also at the question itself. Part of him wondered how the headmaster always knew where people were, but the other part of him just wanted to get it over with. With a resigned sigh, he nodded and walked back towards the teen that was watching them anxiously.

"Come, Weasley," he said with as much enthusiasm as a slug has when it hears the salt shaker coming. The teen hardly spared a second to stand up and follow him out, though he didn't get far before reluctantly grabbing onto Severus' arm. The two opened the doors to the hospital wing and Severus braced himself to be barraged by Weasleys, but he was greeted instead with an empty hallway. It seemed that the headmaster had thought ahead, for which Severus was very grateful.

The two made their way towards the Astronomy tower slowly due to the fact that Fred really shouldn't have been out of bed yet. When they did arrive, Fred dropped Severus' arm and nodded at him in a way that was clearly meant to say 'I've got it.'

Severus let him walk up the rest of the way, but lingered below in the shadows in case anything happened.

Fred reached the last step up the Astronomy tower and wished desperately that Hogwarts had more benches in its hallways. He leaned against the wall for a few moments to catch his breath and looked around. He didn't want to admit how exhausted he was, but even with Snape's help, the walk up to the Astronomy tower had his legs shaking with effort.

The tower looked empty, and Fred feared that they'd made the trek up for no reason. Quietly, Fred called out, "George?" His voice echoed lightly into the night air as he tried to see into the darkness. The longer he stood in place, the more his legs started to shake, and Fred really didn't want to call Snape to come help him, no matter how much help the man had been recently.

He called George's name once again and was about to lower himself to the floor when he heard footsteps and looked up to see George's worried face right in front of him.

"You remember?" George asked quietly, reaching out to grip Fred's shoulders.

Fred nodded slightly and George pulled him forward into a hug. Fred hugged him back, more emotions flowing through him than he knew what to do with at the moment. He settled on being grateful to be back, though at the moment exhaustion was staging a good fight with gratefulness. He stumbled a bit in George's arms and tightened his grip on his brother.

"Are you okay?" George asked worriedly.

"I need to sit down…" Fred answered, reaching out to lean against the wall again. George immediately helped him down to sit on the floor against the wall and joined him a second later.

The two sat in silence for several long moments, though it was nowhere near as awkward or tense as it had been in the infirmary. Fred grabbed George's hand and held onto it for a while as he thought back to earlier in the summer, trying to remember more about what had led up to everything. He shook his head a moment later and sighed.

"Somehow I doubt my headache's going to go away any time soon," Fred muttered.

George turned to look at him and said, "How much do you remember?"

Fred looked up and smiled before saying, "I can't really measure that right now… It's like asking how much water a lake can hold without knowing how big the lake is."

The two shared a quiet laugh before lapsing back into silence, which in itself showed just how stressed they were feeling, since it wasn't every day that they could manage prolonged silence.

"Professor Snape said something about remembering things in order, from now to the past. So far I have a pretty vague idea of what happened this summer. Sorry 'bout the whole potion disaster, by the way," Fred said. "And for punching you, and for-"

"Fred," George interrupted and met his twin's gaze. "Stop apologizing. I think you went through enough because of all of it that we can pretty much drop it."

Fred nodded in response and added on, "Yeah, well, still though…"

"I threw you down a set of stairs, remember? We're even, so drop it, or I'll do it again," George threatened playfully.

Fred smirked and nodded a bit more confidently, "Hey now…"

They were quiet for a few moments once again before Fred said, "Thanks for visiting, by the way. I would've made a cup of tea for you… but they frowned on that sort of thing for some reason."

George smirked and added, "I think the smell of the awful building would've spoiled the tea anyways. Besides, I had forgotten to bring biscuits."

"That wasn't Lee's job?"

"No, his job was to wear that lacy little apron we got him for Christmas last year… he even forgot that, can you believe it?"

"And what exactly was Malfoy's job?"

"Entertainment, what else?"

Fred laughed and said, "I can think of better entertainment. Like that bloody Zabini. I still owe him a bloody nose."

George shook his head and smiled. It felt so right to have Fred back, even if he hadn't been returned in good condition. Slightly worn was acceptable in his book. He wrapped an arm around his twin and commented lightly, "I guess this means we owe Snape now, eh?"

"Why? All he did was save my life, that's not so amazing…" Fred said jokingly. He paused when he felt George's arm tighten around him at the words and added, "I'm kidding, George. We'll think of something for him. Flowers and candy or something," he said with a smile.

Fred heard George take a shaky breath and leaned his head against his brother's shoulder. "I'm alright, George. I mean, I still can't remember every time that Mum yelled at us, but I'm not sure that I really count that as a negative side effect…"

He heard George laugh lightly and closed his eyes. He was more tired than he cared to admit, and though this wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, it was the best place he could think of at the moment.

The two sat quietly for a while, with Fred resting while George watched the stars move slowly across the sky. They could've stayed like that for quite a while longer, though a worried voice echoing from below them drew the twins back to the present.

"Wha's the… who's it?" Fred mumbled tiredly. George craned his neck over Fred as footsteps sounded on the stairs to the tower. His hand moved for his wand even as his mind told him that Snape wouldn't let anything dangerous come up. He didn't even question his sudden reliance on the Potions professor anymore, not after what he'd done for Fred.

"George! Fred!" At this shout, Fred snapped his head up and blearily looked over to see Percy stepping towards them. His face had the time to morph into a look of confusion before he and George were swept into a hug by Percy.

"Ack – Percy! What the hell!" Fred shouted as George started laughing. Their older brother let go of them and kneeled before them with a smile on his face, which was unusual enough that Fred was looking at him as if Percy was the one that had temporarily lost his memory.

"Thanks for coming, Perce," George said lightheartedly.

Fred turned his head slowly to gaze at his twin and then looked back at Percy. He repeated the movement, which only made George and Percy's smiles grow. Finally, he asked to George, "I'm sorry, do you know this person?"

"Ha! Don't even try it, Percy's unforgettable," George laughed.

Percy rolled his eyes and said, "You don't know how glad I am to see you, Fred. Now I don't have to worry about George going off on idiotic missions that even Potter would laugh at."

Fred stared at him for a minute before saying quietly, "Somehow, I don't think my confusion is from not remembering something…"

George smirked and said, "It turns out that Percy's alright. It's a long story, but just trust me, okay?"

"Of course I trust you, you idiot."

Percy laughed lightly and sat back with a smile. "You guys should head back down if you can. Mum and Dad are getting a bit frantic. We were supposed to stay down there, but we split up to find you two."

"We?" George asked.

"Bill, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and I think even Potter and Granger are on the search as well. The Headmaster wouldn't say anything. Oh, Lee's wandering about somewhere too," Percy answered. "Did you forget that we'd all be worried too?"

"Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to forget things, not him," Fred commented.

"Right," George agreed. "But we should get down there. Mum'll have a conniption if we're gone for too long. Just so that we don't have any unnecessary drama though – you do remember everyone, right?"

"Yep, we all live in a castle in Ireland with King Arthur and the Queen Mum and have two servants named Bill and Charlie as well as a little princess named Ginny. There's also a dog named Ron and a cat named Percy."

George rolled his eyes and said, "Close enough."

Percy helped them stand up and commented, "Why do I have to be a cat?"

"Dog was taken."

"Ron really could pass as a dog – he eats everything and he's loyal to anyone with food," George said.

They made their way down the stairs and passed Severus, who was hidden in the shadows. The last he heard of them on their way down was Fred's comment about getting matching collars for Ron and Percy.

* * *

><p>Fred spent another four days in the hospital wing with regular visits from George, Ron, and Ginny. Even Percy showed up at least once a day to see him. When Madame Pomfrey finally released him, it was with the instructions to not get into any trouble or tax his system in any way.<p>

The two twins walked out of the infirmary and Fred did a much calmer interpretation of a victory dance once they were out of sight of the doors. He still felt as if he hadn't had enough sleep, but besides that and the lingering headache from trying to remember everything, he was doing alright. He and George had a large bag that held at least a month-long supply of sweets, chocolates, and homemade pies from Mum to snack on, and they were going to be very careful to hide it all from Ron.

As they were walking back, Fred groaned and stopped suddenly, putting his hands to his head as if in pain.

"What's wrong?" George asked with worry. "Should I go get Madame Pomfrey?"

"I just realized that I've missed the first couple weeks of classes… Bloody hell."

George was about to reassure him when Professor Snape spoke from behind them.

"I believe you won't need to bother worrying about it, Mr. Weasley," Snape said quietly. "The Headmaster has seen fit to excuse you from all of the work that you would have otherwise been completing."

Fred had turned to face him and smiled a bit before saying, "Ah, bless his heart. George, we should share some of our stash with the old man."

"I think that could be arranged," George nodded in agreement, shifting the bag of sweets in his arms.

Professor Snape smirked and added, "His decision is not law, however. Many professors believe that you should still complete the work."

Fred eyed him and responded, "Is that so?"

"Indeed."

Fred turned his gaze to the floor while George glared at Professor Snape. He was about to say something when Fred spoke again.

"I'll give you a chocolate frog."

"Five chocolate frogs."

"Two."

"Three and one of your mother's pies."

"Damn you."

"Four and-"

"Fine! Three and a pie," Fred declared, holding his hands up exasperatedly. George stood in shock as Fred reached into the bag and pulled out three chocolate frogs and one of their mum's pies and handed the items to Professor Snape.

Severus tucked the sweets into one of his pockets and turned to leave after saying, "It was good doing business with you, Mr. Weasley."

After he rounded a corner, Fred shook his head with a smile and said, "Bloody Slytherins."

"I don't even understand what just happened," George said, still looking a bit stunned. He looked at Fred and shrugged abruptly, and the two continued their walk to Gryffindor Tower.

Just as the two were walking by the Great Hall, they noticed Blaise Zabini walking away from them towards the Slytherin dorms. Fred smirked and looked at George, mouthing "hang on a second" to his twin.

He crept down the hallway until he was standing just behind the Slytherin and then said loudly, "Hey, Zabini!"

Zabini turned, whipping out his wand as he did so, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge Fred's fist. The younger Slytherin was sprawled out on the floor, wand several feet away, before he knew what hit him.

Fred laughed and walked back towards George who clapped him on the shoulder while watching Zabini get up and stumble away, holding his nose.

"Feel better?" George asked.

Fred just smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>The End!<strong>

Sorry if you were hoping for more mushy happiness – that's one thing I suck at writing.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks for being patient with me while I finished it. Please leave a note telling me what you thought of it! Thank you!


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